The Heirs to the Mantle
by AnomynousMember117
Summary: For John, it seems like his adventure is finally over, the Insurrectionists gone, the Covenant disbanded, the Flood wiped out. However, during a diplomatic talk on Sanghelios, trouble arises that brings the duo, and the UNSC Infinity to a new planet. There, they meet new allies and find new foes, as they are dragged yet again into a war between identities.
1. The Battle of Sanghelios

Disclaimer: I do not own Halo or Eragon.

A/N: Hello all that choose to pay attention to this fic, This is my first ever story, so any reviews and helpful comments will be appreciated, all flames will be used for when I do something stupid and need to be reminded that i'm not the only idiot out there in the world :)

A/N no 2: This story is inspired by The Turn of The Tides, also a HaloxInheritance fanfic by Captiosus, and also the best one in that category, although no offense to all of you other HaloxInheritance writers out there, Captiosus' is just the most action packed and exciting one.

SPOILER WARNING: THIS FIC CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR BOTH THE INHERITANCE CYCLE, AND HALO 4

Chapter 1: The Battle Of Sanghelios

Five years ago, he had been embroiled in a war for the very survival of humanity.

Five years ago, he had ended that war, spearheading the attack on the Ark, and Ultimately Halo.

Five years ago, he had activated the replacement of Installation 04, eradicating all life in a radius of 25,000 light years.

Five years ago, he had lost his oldest friend, his most trusted ally.

Five years ago, he had saved humanity, and wiped out the parasite known as the Flood.

Five years ago, he had put himself in a cryogenic sleep after the slipspace portal misfired, sending him deep into uncharted territory.

Four months ago, he had woken up to Cortana's desperate plea as what remained of his ship was boarded by the Storm Covenant.

Three months ago, he had been the first human to step foot within Requiem, and the one to awaken the last forerunner, the Diadact.

Three months ago, he had helped the _UNSC Infinity_ escape Requiem, and set course for Earth, chasing after the Composer, before the Diadact catalogued and destroyed all of her residents.

Two months ago, he had faced off against the Diadact, sending him through slipspace, and saving humanity, once again.

Two months ago, he had lost the only one he could depend on anymore, as Cortana sacrificed herself to save him from the detonation of the HAVOC nuclear device as he destroyed the Composer.

One month ago, he was welcomed home as a hero, after five long years, he was home.

The _UNSC INFINITY_ floated silently, above Sanghelios, as her crew relaxed groundside. She was here for a diplomatic visit between humanity and the sangheli. Normally, she would never be here, as she was commissioned for discovering and decommissioning the remaining Halos. However, the sangheli leader Thel 'Vadam, had personally requested this envoy, to talk with his longtime ally, and the last of the legendary Spartan IIs, the Master Chief Petty Officer John-117.

The pelican shuddered one last time as it powered down in the shadow of the Sangheli council chamber, its green Titanium-A sticking out among the dull blue and purple vehicles favored by the sangheli, nicknamed the elites by all UNSC personnel. The entry ramp hissed open as a tall, armored figure strode out. Ignoring the spectators, he strode inside, and entered the chamber.

John strode through the corridors of the council chamber taking in the soaring arches and purple glow everything had. _"Too thin to be used as cover."_ he thought, before mentally shaking himself _"I'm here at the request of the Arbiter for a meeting; I'm not here to kill."_ He thought. Taking a deep breath, he walked into the inner chamber.

"I take it you were also impatient with the senseless gibbering of the council" a voice spoke behind him.

"Yes" replied John, as he turned around to see the Arbiter standing behind him. John mentally hit himself; the Elite standing in front of him was no longer a disgraced martyr seeking to save his race from the teachings of the prophets, and the clutches of the Flood. This was the proud leader of an entire race, resplendent in his ornate combat harness. _"Must be just like me, still expecting a hostile waiting around the corner." _he thought. He doubted that anyone that went through what they had would ever be comfortable in anything that couldn't stop a barrage of plasma or bullets.

"Well it seems that our races may have something in common after all" said the Arbiter as he walked up beside him to look down on the sprawling city. "It must have been hard to lose all of your most trusted warriors and advisors" said the Arbiter, "First your fellow Spartans, than Jacob, then Johnson, Miranda, and Cortana."

"We all did what we must for humanity." was the reply.

While the Arbiter was reminiscing with John of the days of the Great War, he saw a portal erupt into existence high above the planet. Frowning, he accessed the Net and reviewed the scheduled arrivals that day. Before he finished, he looked up in horror as the energy projector mounted on the underside of the vessel began glowing, and unleashed a beam of superheated plasma on the city. The Arbiter cursed as both he and John began sprinting towards the armory, their eyes burning in rage.

"What's happening?" asked John as they entered the armory.

"The rebel faction has returned." Replied the Arbiter as they began arming themselves.

At that moment, the Arbiter's earpiece crackled to life. "The rebels have returned, at the latest count, there are over two hundred battlecruisers in orbit, we are engaging but there are too many, you must flee to gather reinforcements and fight another day!"

The Arbiter easily recognized the voice as that of his longtime comrade Rtas Vadum. Normally, the Arbiter would have refused outright, and fought within the frontlines as any honorable Elite would. However he trusted Rtas, and realized the wisdom in his instructions. He turned to the Chief and asked him "Is your ship still in action? We must leave and rendezvous with our reinforcements.

"Affirmative" replied John as he checked over the weapon in his hands.

"Well then let's go" said the Arbiter.

He hadn't even finished speaking as the doors slid open and the pelican touched down in front of them with the ramp already opening. The pair looked at each other and sprinted towards it. John's foot had barely hit the ramp before it slid closed and shot towards the _Infinity_ and safety.

Onboard the _Infinity_, sirens were blaring around Captain Thomas Lasky as he frantically shouted orders and checked monitors. The moment the glassing beam had struck, he had ordered the men to high alert and began charging the _Infinity's_ four onboard MAC guns. As soon as he heard John's report through his com, and ordered the _Infinity_ to retreat, and jump to Reach. As the_ Infinity_ began the jump sequence, a cruiser turned their attention to her, and fired several plasma torpedoes. Just before the Infinity went through, the torpedo hit one of the engines, shaking her, and damaging the slipspace drive. Before anyone could react to the damage, the _Infinity_ vanished into slipspace. Hopefully, she was heading towards Reach.

A/N I know that there is nothing that has to do with the Inheritance Cycle, that will come next chapter, however, i will not leave this side hanging, after all, the Storm wont be crushed by nothing, and I personally know that I would hate being left in the dark about this side too. Don't worry, I also know that many will hate being given a chapter that they feel has nothing to do with the storyline (I don't want to know how the Storm and UNSC are doing dammit, I want to how Chief kicks ass in the Battle of the Burning Plains! hint hint...) I know that feeling too, so I will be uploading any UNSC-Storm chapters along with the normal ones. I also will add in chapters about Roran and his adventures in and away from Carvahall. Because I feel that it is part of the normal story-line, I will NOT add any extra chapters to go along with these. but don't worry, because this is my first story, I might just upload at least one chapter every day (at least for the first few days) so the updates will be quick as I hate having to wait months or even years waiting for a new chapter (Its happened believe me)even if they had some problems themselves. Anyway, any readers out there (If you even bother with this story), the updates WILL be quick, and this story WILL be fairly long. I just haven't gotten to the good parts yet :)


	2. Loss

Disclaimer: I don't own Halo or Eragon

A/N So, my second chapter in one day! I just had to get it out there as I just couldn't stop writing, so I finished this today, the same day I wrote Ch 1, enjoy the gift :)

Chapter 2: Loss

"_The aftermath of a battle is always worse than the battle itself" _Thought Eragon as he strode through what had been a battlefield. The ground was torn and stained red with the fresh blood of the wounded and dead. A sob slipped past his lips as a fresh wave of grief washed over him. _"Why me?"_ he thought, _"Why is it always me? First Garrow died then Brom, then Ajihad and Murtagh, why do all of those that I care about have to die?"_

_"Because little one, they defied the black king, or they were simply in his way in his quest to kill you. Remember why you fight, to prevent Glabatorix from causing harm to anyone ever again, to save those suffering under his rule, and to liberate everyone from the darkness caused by his soul" _replied Sapphira, his paired dragon and the one closest to his heart (and mind).

"It doesn't really comfort me to know that those I care about and are still alive may be in danger too," said Eragon wryly "That those that have done nothing may be dead, such as Roran, Horst, Katrina, and everyone else back in Carvahall."

Before Sapphira could reply, they both noticed something thorough the crater that hid Farthen Dûr. The very sky seemed to rip itself apart, creation a void darker than the darkest night, tinged purple at the edges.

_"What is that?"_ thought Eragon as a guard noticed too and raised the alarm.

Within moments, the entire area was filled with people gawking at the phenomenon above them. However, the true surprise had yet to come. From the void, came a gargantuan _thing_. If asked to describe it, Eragon could only think of one word, _massive_; and that would be stretching it. Eragon estimated that it was several leagues long and wide, and it was _flying_, like it was weightless. Just as quickly as it appeared, the void retracted, leaving the object suspended in the air, like a large, irregular moon. That too, disappeared in a second, but not before everyone saw a star fall from the sky, heading towards the volcano. It shot towards Eragon at speeds that would have made Sapphira dizzy. As it neared the mouth of the volcano, Eragon saw that it was shaped roughly like a bird, made entirely of metal. As it came even closer, he realized it was much too big to be a normal bird, larger than any man, and rivaling Sapphira. Suddenly, he realized that it wasn't flying; it was _falling,_ falling faster than anything ever seen before; which meant that when it hit, he would be flattened instantly, and buried before he could even think. Just as he opened his mouth to call a warning, the star-bird-rock-thing leveled out mere feet above the ground and just hovered there. Hot wind buffeted all of them around as the bird thing began hissing and whirring. Suddenly, its rear end began to open, prompting many of the men to snicker immaturely. What happened next was completely unexpected. A human calmly walked to the edge of the platform and spoke.

"Would all of you gentlemen kindly move away from the pelican, otherwise we wouldn't be able to land without crushing many of you."

Everyone quickly moved away from the bird, weightless as it seemed, it was big, and no one was willing to test whether it actually was weightless. Eragon watched as the bird, no the man had called it a pelican (although it looked nothing like one) landed the ground. The man walked out. Gasps quickly rose and the men stepped backwards as an armored giant and a creature never seen before walked out after the first.

"Where are we, Human?" asked the alien, as he swept his head around curiously. "How are these humans living in such primitive conditions?"

The leading human seemed equally confused, "god knows how we are here," he said.

The giant being beside the alien simply stood straight as a rod holding his strange device by his chest. It was instantly raised as the dwarfs gave an indignant roar at the thought of the strangers calling Farthen Dûr "primitive".

Upon seeing the giant move, everyone immediately drew their swords and pointed them at the newcomers. Eragon watched as Nasuada stepped forward. "Everyone sheathe your weapons! Can you not see that they do not wish to kill us? Otherwise they would not have warned you to move before they crushed you like you would a beetle!" Turning around, she apologized "I am sorry for the actions of these men, please excuse them, as we all are currently fighting a desperate war for our freedom."

"There is nothing to forgive; we can see you have been through some hard times. Your presence here and appearance has simply surprised us, for we never expected humans to be populating such a planet so far away from earth, among other things" replied the first man. Suddenly he stiffened, and hurriedly apologized himself, "I am terribly sorry, I am Captain Thomas Lasky of the UNSC Infinity, currently in orbit above the planet. The Green one is the Master Chief Sierra 117 and the Elite is the leader of his people Thel 'Vadam."

Nasuada smiled and said "You are forgiven; after all, I made the same mistake as you."

"You said there was a war?"

Eragon Jumped as the voice came from the armored being now known as Sierra 117.

"Yes, we are currently fighting the mad king Galbatorix, and his dragon, for our freedom. After that, we seek to liberate everyone still living in the Empire from his oppression." Eragon spoke as he stepped up, along with Sapphira.

"What king with any shred of honor would oppress his people?" Thel gave a deep growl as he spoke, "I would rip him to shreds with my bare hands, and teach him to fear the Sangheli! Captain, I request permission to land an invasion and kill that coward called Galbatorix now!"

Thomas looked thoughtfully upwards. After what seemed like several hours, he spoke again, "Permission denied, we cannot kill him ourselves, that would simply create a power vacuum and cause chaos throughout the land. We need someone well-known to kill him so that he may claim power."

"Why not create a democracy like your current government human?" asked Thel.

"I have no wish to impose our views and bias on this world; there have been too many occasions like that in history. These people must find their own way to rule themselves," replied Thomas, "However, I cannot stand by and watch a tyrant remain in power, we will help this rebellion, but we shall not fire the killing shot to the king. That must be done by an important figure in this planet."

Eragon began feeling hope, as he heard the two foreign leaders talking between themselves.

_"Maybe we can expect some hope that these strange men from the sky can help us little one" _Sapphira said, wriggling in excitement.

_"Maybe," _said Eragon, afraid to be too optimistic in fear that they would leave without a second thought. _"But I do not expect them to. After all, they must have their own duties. Even if they did, how much help could they provide? No matter how many men they have, they are not spellcasters, although their minds are guarded by barriers stronger than those I have ever seen, not ever Murta-"_ Here, Eragon stopped abruptly as the events of the past few days came back to him.

Sapphira simply snorted, and blew a small jet of flame from her nostrils, as she had done ever since the first time when she saved Eragon under the Isidar Mithrim. _"Anyway, they have already agreed to help us, even if they are normal humans, they certainly brought more people, and they seem to be capable of doing things even magic cannot."_ At this point, Sapphira nudged him towards the group talking.

Eragon blinked stupidly as he suddenly found himself beside Nasuada, and staring into the stern eyes of Thomas. _"Sapphira! Don't do that! Now I look like a total fool in front of all of these men, and even Arya!"_

Sapphira snorted again, _"You would have looked like an even bigger fool standing there with your mouth open after the third time Nasuada spoke your name."_

Heat rose to Eragon's face as he looked back to the group and sheepishly asked "Sorry, could you repeat what you said?"

Thomas smiled as he looked at him. "No problem, you remind me of myself back when I was at Corbulo's Academy, never paying attention, and quite lost in your current environment. I'll say it again, would you be willing to take the burden as the inspiration to these men and strike the killing blow on Galbatorix?"

Eragon was stunned, _"Kill Galbatorix? But I'm not strong enough, even if they can get me into Uru'bean, Galbatorix will simply kill me himself!"_

_"Don't worry, that won't be for a long time, they are currently talking about invading several major cities while you finish your training with the elves" _replied Sapphira.

Eragon breathed a sigh of relief; at least he wasn't going to be attempting to kill him for at least several months. "I would be honored to accept, provided that I won't be facing him until I finish my training."

"That would simply amount to failure, should you not be powerful enough to take on Galbatorix himself, I would not dream of beginning until you are ready" smiled Thomas. Turning to Nasuada, he finally gave his verdict "Now that the one chosen to kill Galbatorix has accepted his role, I too, accept your offer, and I offer you any help , be it in, food, transportation, medical supplies or with a gun."

A/N Not too happy about this chapter, it seemed a bit too rushed, and many decisions seemed to be too hasty IMO, and trust seemed to be given a bit too quickly to make it realistic. However, I just wanted to get it out there.

Also, Don't worry if it seems too boring, i'm still setting the stage for what will happen later on, things will get very interesting very soon, so if you are currently reading this story, hold on, and stick with me. Please? :)


	3. Lord Hood (Side Chapter)

Disclaimer: I do not own Eragon or Halo.

A/N: This is the first of my Halo only side stories, and also, my first question. Do you guys want me to tie in these two stories, and have the UNSC here go to back Chief and the Arbiter up? don't worry! the normal update will follow in a few hours!

Chapter 3: Lord Hood

Retired fleet admiral Lord Terrence Hood's day had been going well. That is, until he was woken by an urgent call from his datapad. Groaning, he picked it up and started reading. Suddenly, the datapad clattered from his nerveless fingers as he processed what it contained. Cursing, he quickly got up and dressed. Five minutes later he left his apartment and sped off to ONI HQ on Earth. If his assumptions were right, humanity was once again living on a knife's edge.

In an undisclosed region, the sounds of the pelican's engines died down as Lord Hood stepped out, and looked around ONI's main headquarters. Squaring his shoulders he walked down the crisp hallways, and reached his destination. Stepping into the director's office, he idly noticed the nameplate stating the man's name as Matthew. _"Probably known as Matt"_ Thought Hood.

Pushing aside his thoughts, he stepped up and saluted. Retired or not, he was still a solider at heart and it would never do to insult someone as powerful as the director of ONI.

"Ah, Lord Hood," said Matt smoothly.

Too smoothly; Hood knew his kind of people. This was a man that made choices based not off of how humanity and her allies would benefit, he made choices for himself, and his own gain. _"This is not the type of man that should be leading ONI"_ thought Hood. _"I'd bet my entire fortune that whatever trouble that was important enough to force him to reinstate my rank of fleet admiral was at least partly because of him. Speaking of which, I wonder what trouble he needs help with."_

"I am terribly sorry for this interruption so late in your day, but we have an emergency that is unrivalled since the Human-Covenant War" said Matt.

_"Rivalling the Great War? What is this idiot doing? Experimenting with the flood to create a superweapon? Trying to replicate Halo? Maybe he is trying to launch an assault on the homeworld of the Brutes?" _

"I assume you know of the surviving fragment of the Covenant that call themselves the Storm, right?" asked Matt.

"Of course," Hood replied. _"What does the Storm Covenant have to do with this? They don't have enough equipment or troops to pose much of a threat to us."_

"Just two hours ago, one of our slipspace drones from Sanghelios was sent to us. It detailed an invasion that the Storm had mounted, forcing the UNSC Infinity to flee to Reach, carrying the leader of the Sangheli, Thel 'Vadam."

"What? How did the Storm even get enough equipment to carry out such a maneuver?" Hood asked, shocked to his very core at the daring of the Storm.

At this Matt suddenly looked extremely nervous as he squirmed around and proceeded to look anywhere but Hood.

Needless to say, Hood instantly understood just why such a thing had happened. "Don't say it. You betrayed Thel, and sold supplies to the Storm, didn't you? I don't even need to hear your answer, it's written across your face." snapped Hood, as he angrily rose and began pacing. "Don't even bother explaining, I don't want to know how the hell you got in such a mess."

"The Elites were getting too powerful, Thel's regime could not be allowed to grow too strong, or-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence as Hood angrily stepped in front of his desk. "OR WHAT? OR THEL COULD HAVE LAUNCHED AN ATTACK ON EARTH?" Hood quickly composed himself before continuing. "I don't like Elites either, I can't forgive them for their genocide during the war, but even I can see past my anger and realize that no Elite would abandon their allies. They would see their entire race wiped out before they allowed any enemy to touch an ally they respect. By weakening Thel, you weakened humanity and brought all of this trouble to our doorstep." Lord Hood was getting angry again, and fast.

Before he could continue, Matt cut in, "I know now that I made a mistake, and I hope that you can forgive me for it. But right now, I am ordering you to retake your title fleet admiral and lead our marines to Sanghelios' aid."

"What if I refuse?" asked Hood.

"You cannot, because you are currently a civilian, I outrank you, and therefore you must follow my orders, which is to lead our fleet to Sanghelios." Said Matt stiffly.

Looking at the clock, Hood mentally smirked. _"Right on time, it's a new day, which means that I take control right now."_ Hood looked back at Matt and smirked. "I accept my position as fleet admiral, and I will lead the fleet to Sanghelios and fight back the storm. However, because I now outrank you, you are now dishonorably discharged on the grounds of treason and sabotage. Guards take him away, and put him in cell 106A. He shall be court-martialed tomorrow at 8:00."

Before Matt could protest, multiple guards came behind him and seized him. "What? I protest, I have done-"

Smirking Hood cut in to his protests. "What you have or have not done will not be decided by me, ONI section zero will be making a thorough search and investigation about your orders and actions as director of ONI. Now take him away!"

As Matt was escorted away, Hood's smile slipped off his face as he turned to the monumental task of planning a counterattack on the Storm. After hours of searching, He finally leaned back with a sigh. He had yet to find anything interesting, and all of the current ships available were outdated. Suddenly, he shot up as he stared at a new window on the holo-projector. A slow grin spread across his face slowly. Maybe, the best ships to send were not the newest ships; maybe he should use this one as the capital ship, the oldest one in the entire navy. _"Yes" _he thought, this ship would do very well.

An hour later, in the Himalayan mountain range, a mountain slowly began to rise, shaking off rocks, and trees, and showering the surrounding area in dirt. In the bridge, Lord Hood smiled grimly as his gargantuan 20 Kilometer Forerunner Capital ship rose up, out of the ground, to join the fleet currently amassing itself above Reach. Yes, this ship would do very well.

A/N: And there is my first side story. Once again, I stress that the usual chapter will follow in a few hours. Oh, and one more question, It seems to me as if my thoughts are currently going off on a completely different tangent, so tell me what you guys think! Remember, all reviews will be taken seriously! (Unless they are flames)


	4. Of Heirs and Annoyed Dragons

Disclaimer: I do not own Eragon or Halo.

A/N: here is the promised second chapter, and please remember to review!

Chapter 4: Of Heirs and Annoyed Dragons

_Eragon!_ Sapphira's concerned shout tore through Eragon's mind as a fresh wave of pain swept through him again. _Damned back_ groaned Eragon as he slowly rose from the floor where he had fallen. It seemed like the scar on his back seemed to act up and immobilize him with pain at the most inopportune moments; such as now, when he was late to the council's meeting. Growling, he continued on through the halls towards the council's chambers.

John had always preferred to not be noticed, he hated attention, and he hated talking with others. Even those whom he considered friends and family had rarely heard him speak. Speaking made them connect to him, made them like him. As the last Spartan II, He knew he could die at just about any engagement. He knew that _when _he died, there would be those that would mourn him. Contrary to what many believed, he cared a lot about many people. That was the reason he did not talk to them. After all, the pain would be less for them if he held himself aloof, and spoke only when necessary. It provided less of a window for them to actually grow fond of him. This way, he told himself; those he left behind would not mourn him as a friend, but remember and honor him as the silent guardian that protected humanity. It would be much less painful for them that way.

As John was thinking to himself, he heard his earpiece buzz to life, as Thomas Lasky's face appeared on the left side of his visor.

"Chief, you are needed in the council's chambers to help decide the succession of the leader of the Varden." He said.

_These people trust us already? _John shook himself and began to jog to the selected NAV point indicated on his visor.

Stopping outside the door, he hesitated before turning the handle. Nodding to himself, he activated the cloaking system built into his MJOLNIR Mk X Powered Assault Armor, based off a forerunner combat skin. His new 'allies' might be trusting, but he did not trust them. Taking a deep breath, waited until the boy called Eragon opened the door to walk in. Swiftly, he ghosted in, taking care not to disrupt the system's stability. Apparently, the forerunners themselves had trouble completely camouflaging a moving object to, mused John.

"Ah Eragon, we have been waiting for you." Said the one called Jörmundur.

"I hope that I am not too late sir," replied Eragon.

"No problem, we are still waiting for the Chief to join us," was his reply.

John mentally snorted as Thomas' eyes flickered over to his hiding place, and spoke up.

"I am sure that we can continue without the Chief, as he would not participate in nominating a leader anyway. He hates the politics and politicians no matter where he is. In fact, I would not be surprised if he ignored my message completely," said Thomas.

"Very well," said Jörmundur, "as you all know, Ajihad's death has shaken us to our very roots. Now, even as we grieve for our valiant leader, we must choose his successor so that his work is not wasted. We will see his life's work completed, even if it takes us generations to do so. As Ajihad's senior advisor and most trusted friend, I nominate Nasuada to take Ajihad's place as leader of the Varden.

John's armor immediately toned down the noise, as the council let out a collective roar of protests. Even so, he was still tempted to pull out his magnum and silence a few of the council. He had seen many female leaders and soldiers that were much stronger and more disciplined than the rabble in front of him. His eyes, hidden behind his visor, and his cloaking device caught Thomas' as he raised an eye at him. _I should have known, ever since he first encountered the cloaking devices at Corbulo's Academy, he has been able to see straight thorough them as if they were not even there._ Suddenly, the room trembled as something massive hit the ceiling above them. By John's estimates, it must have been as heavy as a scorpion tank to cause such a tremor. The roaring above them quickly signified it was the dragon Sapphira above them. _Looks like the council woke up Sapphira when she was in a bad mood. _ He thought. John allowed himself a chuckle as he watched the council members jump from their seats and hide under the table; a_s if that would protect them from an angry dragon._

As the tremor quieted down, the council slowly crawled out from under the table.

"m-maybe we should discuss this quietly," said Jörmundur in a shaky voice.

The rest of the council quickly nodded their assent.

"Now, I once more nominate Nasuada as the leader for the Varden" spoke Jörmundur, "after all, there is no reason not to nominate her, as she possesses her father's will and determination."

"She would make a fine leader, if she were male that is" said one council member.

Rage began boiling up in John's stomach. Barely pausing to think, he moved in a quick, precise movement, pulling his magnum from his holster, bringing it up, flipping the safety and firing before anyone could even react.

The Elder could only stare in fear at the one inch hole in the table not a centimeter from his right hand. His head jerked up to see the Chief standing over him with a strange, smoking instrument which he assumed had caused the hole. His face paled once he realized that the shot was a warning, and that he could be killed in an instant with the instrument in the foreigner's hand. At that thought, he lost control of his bodily functions and sprinted out of the room, but not before everyone caught the wet patch in his pants.

John snorted in amusement as he watched the elder sprint out of the room faster than he had ever run in 40 years. Nodding in satisfaction, he calmly asked, "any objections to Nasuada's promotion?" To emphasize his words, he calmly reloaded the clip, and holstered it, before bringing out his M45D Tactical Shotgun, and pumping it once, he watched a shell flip through the air, before catching it and replacing it inside the loading chamber. _Unnecessary, but quite intimidating to this group of fools_ he thought. Judging by the silence in the room, he was right. "Good" he said in satisfaction as his camouflage kicked in again and he disappeared from view.

Shaking, Jörmundur quickly turned to Nasuada, "Do you accept this role, Lady Nasuada?" he asked.

Caught off guard, Nasuada quickly stood up and replied with equal formality "I do Jörmundur, I will never be able to be as great as my father, but I will try my best to lead the Varden to victory against the mad king."

Everyone else in the room hastily stood and began pledging their fealty to their new leader.

John smirked under his visor. _No, Nasuada, you shall surpass your father, and maybe even Miranda Keyes in leadership of this group. You shall become one that even I respect and follow without question._

A/N: and this is the end of this chapter, comment and review, it makes me even more addicted to writing this story!

Also, any suggestions will be considered, (unless its an obvious troll) and those I use will receive credit where it is due. Good day to you all, and please remember to review!


	5. Carvahall

Disclaimer: I do not own Eragon or Halo

A/N This is my first Chapter involving Carvahall and Roran's side of things. This is also my first chapter where any kind of romance happens at all. I hope you enjoy it, and please review. Tommorrow is Saturday so I think that I may be able to get in two chapters then. :) Now onto the story!

Chapter 5: Carvahall

The burnt and blackened remains of a hut stood out like a sore thumb compared to the snowy white mountains of the Spine. The crunch of snow and soot split the air as a lone hooded figure slowly walked through the ruins, inspecting anything, and everything.

Roran sighed as he stared around the now desolate shack. _This had been my home_ he thought. It had been his home, until he left for Therinsford to work as an apprentice to a miller. However, he had only just begun for a few days, when Alchreich and Baldor rushed into the mill, babbling about Garrow's death. Shocked, Roran had immediately quit and rushed back to Carvahall. It was too late, however and Garrow had passed away. To make matters even worse, Eragon had also disappeared along with the strange bard Brom.

_Eragon_ thought Roran, as his fists clenched and his eyebrows furrowed together in anger. He had left before Garrow had even been buried; apparently to claim revenge on his murderers. _It matters not now, _Roran thought. _The only thing that matters is to rebuild this farmhouse and start over. Hopefully, I will be able to amass enough money to ask for Katrina's hand in marriage._

Glancing around, he took in the destroyed farmhouse. The roof had collapsed, as well as a portion of the wall. _Completely unusable, although some of the wood is relatively undamaged. I might be able to use that as a temporary shelter before I complete the actual house._ He turned towards the field, where it used to be, a thick layer of weeds and crops had run wild, covering the ground and making it appear no different from the land beside it. _Nature has reclaimed this place quickly, after only a month, this place already looks wild._

Clearing it would be no problem, he knew; after all, Garrow was a popular figure in town, and many mourned his passing. He would only have to ask for help before the whole village took out their tools and marched out to rebuild his old home. _Well, maybe not the whole village, Sloan has always been a pain in the ass for as long as I knew him. He's about as similar to Katrina as a wildfire to a candle; at least, when Katrina isn't angry at something or someone._ He smiled wryly, before turning back and beginning the long trek back to town.

The little village was bustling about as usual, as its inhabitants woke up and began their daily routines. Roran waved to Baldor as he walked by, delivering a new knife to Sloan. Settling into stride beside him, Baldor spoke up.

"How is the farm?" he asked.

Roran grimaced as he remembered the mangled shack that was all that remained. "The building is in ruins, and would have to be completely destroyed before I can rebuild it, but the earth is still fertile, and I can build a temporary shelter using the wood from the shack.

"At least that's some good news," Baldor grunted as he sped up. "I should hurry up, or Sloan'll be testing the sharpness of his new knife on me." Baldor grimaced at the thought.

Chuckling, Roran continued on his way, before turning and cutting into an alley behind Sloan's home. Katrina was waiting for him as he eagerly walked up to her and pulled her into an embrace.

Breaking apart, Katrina briefly kissed him before whispering, "How did your trip go?"

Roran grimaced again. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. "The shack is completely destroyed, but it can be rebuilt. The earth is still fertile and will be able to yield plenty of crops during the harvest." He grimaced again "However, that's about the only things that can be repaired."

Seeing his pain, Katrina tried to comfort him. "I'm sure that the pain will pass in years, like an old wound. You'll never forget what it used to be, but I'm sure that it will become bearable in time."

Roran smiled, "That's what I love about you, you seen to know everything I am talking about, no matter what."

Smiling, Katrina answered him, "I love you too," she whispered.

They moved apart as they heard Sloan's call from afar.

Turning her attention back on Roran, Katrina desperately asked, "I should go now, but before I do, when do you plan on telling my father?"

The smile slipped off Roran's face as he contemplated her question. "I don't know, I currently do not have anything, and Sloan would simply wave me out or worse should I ask him before I have a dowry."

Katrina's face became grim at that, "Whenever you ask him, you should do it soon. I overheard my father yesterday talking about marriage a merchant's son. I will try to stall, but you must talk to him very soon, unless you do, I fear that it will be too late." Stifling a sob, Katrina quickly turned and walked home, leaving a stunned Roran.

_Damn it, everything seems to be going wrong today, could they be getting any worse?_ Turning around, he began walking home, pondering what Katrina had told him. If what she said was true, (and he had no doubt it was) then he would have to ask Sloan as soon as possible. Deciding to clear his mind, he walked to Quimbly's bar for a drink.

As he opened the door, a cold draft forced itself into the room, and chilling its occupants. Two figures huddled beside the fire in cloaks signifying them as agents of King Galbatorix himself turned as one, their faces hidden deep in the shadow of their hoods.

"Ssshut the door, It getsss verry cold in heere when that door issss open" one of the figures hissed angrily.

Roran quickly shut the door after him. It would not do to anger agents of King Galbatorix no matter where he was. Ordering some mead, he turned to sit at an empty table. Just as he sat down, he noticed that one of the agents seemed to have materialized in front of him.

Sitting down, the man asked in his peculiar hissing speech. "There wassss a child here who dissssappeared a few monthsssss back, he wassss carrying a blue ssstone with him. Do you know where any ssssuch persson could be? The King ssshall reward you handsssomly if you could give usss any… information" he hissed.

Imperceptibly, Roran froze. He knew who that person was; heck he had lived with him for almost his entire life. _Eragon _he thought resentfully. It was because of him that he was going through this pain now. Pretending to think, he began to stall for time. "I'm not sure, I can't say I saw such a person recently enough for me to be of use to you, I don't even know him very well," _Not anymore_ "I saw the person you were talking about several months ago, but after I returned from Therinsford, he has disappeared." _There, that should be enough to lower their suspicions and not draw attention to Eragon, not that I know where he is._

Hissing, the man in front of him considered his words. "Verry well, it sseemssss you don't have much more information on thisss perssson than any other. If you do, or if you sssee him, tell usss immediately, the King rewardsss those that help him verry handsssomly." Gesturing to his companion, he turned to leave the room. Without a word, his partner followed into the cold winter air.

Suddenly, Roran shot upright. Horst had talked about two unnatural men dispatched by the King who hissed more than they spoke. Roran also recalled they had been asking for Eragon and that blue stone of his that time too. His gut burned with anger. It seemed that while Eragon had left to hunt for Garrow's murderer, Roran had found them first. Turning, he swiftly slapped a couple of coins and left the tavern.

A/N There it is. Hope you guys like it and tell me what you think in the reviews! I try to tailor my stories to your preferences so be sure to include them! There will be two chapters coming out tommorrow so stay tuned! :)


	6. The Great Journey (Not quite)

Disclaimer: I do not own Eragon or Halo.

A/N: Here's the six chapters! I think I am getting into stride, as I get more confident :) This is the my longest chapter yet! Enjoy the show :D

Chapter 6: The Great Journey (Not quite)

_Little one._ A distant voice travelled through Eragon's subconscious. _Little One._ Eragon groaned and shifted in his sleep as he tried in vain to throw off the voice in his mind. _LITTLE ONE!_ Eragon woke to the sensation of falling.

"Ow!" Eragon groaned as he stared up at the ceiling from the floor beside his cot, still trying to shake off the last vestiges of sleep. He groaned as he looked blearily at the sky, noting the positioning of the stars, and realizing that dawn had not yet come. _Saphira? What time is it? Why did you wake me now, of all times?_ He asked, more than a little annoyed at the prospect of waking up before any sensible human would.

_We're leaving for Ellesmera, remember?_ Saphira replied.

All vestiges of sleep left Eragon as he leapt to his feet, wide awake and hurriedly putting on his tunic. _Alright, I'll be right along, tell Arya and Orik to wait would you?_ As he tossed his shirt on, he quickly began gathering his scant items from the low-ceilinged room. As he dressed he recalled all that had happened recently.

_Flashback_

"Horathgar is ready for you now, Shadeslayer," said the burly dwarf that guarded the dwarf king Horathgar's throne room.

Nodding to him, Eragon stepped into the throne room and walked into the room.

Eragon was surprised at how sparse Horathgar's throne room was. The entire thing was a giant subterranean cavern, with stalactites and stalagmites sticking out, like the ceiling and floor were trying to pull themselves together. Scattered around the cave were dwarven statues, each and every one life-sized and holding the hammer that Horathgar currently wielded. Eragon assumed they were statues of previous kings. The number of kings surprised Eragon, for the oldest race in all of Alagaësia, there were surprisingly few kings. No more than the number of kings that was on record since King Palanacar took power.

Horathgar's throne itself was just as sparse as the room. It was a large granite block carved from the ground up, and raised a few inches above the rest of the room.

Seeing Eragon's surprise, Horathgar chuckled and spoke. "Judging from your expression, I assume that you are surprised by what you see."

Realizing that he might have offended the great king, Eragon quickly said what he was thinking. "I assumed that it was more… elaborate like Farthen Dur is, why do you lavish so much attention on the city, but choose to skip over the throne room?"

Horathgar chucked before answering, "This is not only a throne room, this room is also a mortuary for those kings that came before. See those statues? Inside every one of them is one of our past kings, carved by our finest masons. One day, I shall join them, and mine successor shall take the throne. But we did not come here to talk about the origins of this room. We came to talk about your future; and the future of the Varden."

Eragon replied cautiously, as he was aware that no matter how welcoming he could be, Horathgar still had the best interests of his subjects on his mind. "I am not sure, in a few more days, I will leave for Ellesmera, and complete my training there. After that, I will join the Varden and the newcomers and drive to Uru'baen and kill Galbatorix, or die trying."

Horathgar nodded, he had expected no less from the young rider. "I see that you have a very definite plan, I may be able to help you out, at least for you to reach Ellesmera. After that, I cannot do much but provide mine brethren to you for battle. However, I have one request for you, and that is for you to take Orik with you to Ellesmera. I wish for Orik to see the capital of the elves for himself. Also, it is mine honor to invite you to join Dûrgrimst Ingeitum in all but blood."

Eragon was shocked, he quickly thought things through, and after a consultation with Saphira, once again turned his attention to the great king. "It would be my honor for Orik to accompany me to Ellesmera. I also humbly accept your invitation to become a member of Dûrgrimst Ingeitum."

At this Horathgar's face split into a smile, as he regarded his new, adopted son. "Very well, I shall announce the news after you leave, so as to give the other dwarven clans time to accept this, before they get the chance to attempt to assassinate you because of your power. Now leave, and rest for your journey. After this is all over, let us sit together over a tankard of mead and speak of our adventures, Shadeslayer.

Eragon nodded respectfully, and left the room.

_Flashback End_

_ERAGON!_ Eragon started as he realized that he had spaced out and several minutes has passed. "Shit" he muttered as he turned and sprinted from the room.

Panting, he reached the tunnel they were to leave from for the journey to Ellesmera, and turned to find his companions restlessly waiting for him. Sheepishly, he waived and said, "Err, hello I was a bit distracted today, sorry."

"Very well, let's move" said the voice of the foreigner known as Chief.

John watched in amusement as Eragon jumped and spun around, wide-eyed to stare at him.

"Where in the Spine did you come from?" asked Eragon, shocked.

Underneath his helmet, John allowed himself a small smile as he answered "Eridanus II" before turning and walking down the tunnel.

"Wait, where are you going?" asked Eragon as he ran to follow the rest of the group.

"I'm under orders from Captain Thomas Lasky to escort you to your objective and back." John replied without missing a single step.

Eragon decided to shut up and let the matter drop.

"Unfortunately, our satellites show that the forest and mountains are impassable to all but our scorpion tanks, and mammoth APCs; and our aircraft cannot land in the forest. So we will have to go on foot," said John as he continued down the tunnel.

Judging from the silence, Eragon was too stunned to reply.

They had been marching for several hours now. John never liked marching, It was too monotonous, and for a Spartan, it was simply unnecessary. _After all, my objectives were almost always a short walk from my current location, and if it was far away, there would always be some sort of vehicle to get me there quickly._ John glanced over at his mission timer, and realized it was already almost midnight. He turned around to find his companions lagging behind. Even the elf Arya seemed to be a bit green in the face. "We'll rest here for a few hours, and then continue on," said John. It would not do for his companions to collapse.

"How are you still standing?" groaned Eragon, as he simply let his gear fall to the ground. A moment later, he collapsed face first into the ground and fell asleep where he was.

"Indeed, I wonder how a human like you could still be standing there unaffected after such a pace, "growled Orik. "Perhaps you work for Galbatorix who gave you some cursed reserve of energy?"

John shrugged; "I trained" was his reply.

"How hard did you train?" muttered Orik in shock, as he too began to prepare for the night.

Arya didn't say anything; she simply narrowed her eyes at him.

John was well aware of what she was trying to do, but he ignored her completely.

"You are not human" she said slowly and suspiciously.

At this, Orik turned his head up and looked at John with renewed suspicion. "Not human? Then what manner of beast are you?"

"No, no you misunderstood me Orik," murmured Arya " He's part human, the other part… I really can't say what beast it is; unless you are so kind as to tell us?"

"That is classified information" stated John as he turned around.

"Blast it! I am not continuing on from this spot without knowing just who, or what you are!" shouted Orik angrily as he stamped his foot in frustration.

Turning, John answered him, "I cannot tell you the nature of the SPARTAN II program, or project MJOLNIR. But know this, I have been through much more than you have, seen much more than you have, and I know much more than you do. That has made me what you see today."

Shrugging, Orik returned to his preparations. "I guess that's the closes we can get to an answer."

Arya simply nodded and began to prepare for night.

_One week later_

They had left the tunnels early morning a week ago, and they were now heading north. During the entire time, the Chief hadn't lessened his guard, always holding that long black rod flat against his chest. The sun gleamed off his golden faceplate. Turning, Eragon scanned the horizon again, the Chief's paranoia seemed to be rubbing off on him too. Turning his attention back forward, he saw the great trees of Du Weldenvarden for the first time. Beside him, he heard Orik mutter an oath at the sheer size of the forest.

"From this point on, we must proceed with caution; the trees themselves have varying degrees of magic, depending on how far they are from our cities. But the farther we move, the more dangerous it becomes for any non-elf. The forest holds many secrets even we don't understand. Be on your guard." murmured Arya as she stepped forward into the forest.

Gradually, Eragon began to hear voices. At first, dismissed them as the wind, but as time went on, it became undeniable that they were being followed. Spreading out his conscious, he sensed a party of about fifty people slowly following him. Speeding up his pace, he walked beside Arya. "We'-"

"I know," she cut in softly, "let them make the first move, if they want to harm us, fight, but only then."

As if on cue, the men behind them called "Halt! Now stay still and maybe the king will allow you to live!"

They fanned out behind the leader. At the same time, another two hundred materialized in front of them.

Despair welled up in Eragon; two hundred and fifty men were no small feat, not when he was as tired as he currently was. In fact, the Chief had driven them so quickly, that even Arya appeared to be panting as she took in the situation.

"Blast it" muttered Orik, he too was swaying as he tried to bring his axe up. "we're too tired, in this state, only about a hundred men would be able to kill us all, two hundred and fifty is too much for us to handle."

Smirking, the leader of the soldiers stated "Three hundred, actually."

Once he mentioned it, Eragon noticed the fifty extra in the trees around them _Archers_ he thought grimly. _Saphira! We're in trouble!_ He sent her a few images to help her locate his location and the situation.

"Now lay down your arms, and allow us to b-" The solider never finished his sentence.

Eragon looked in confusion as the triumphant smirk on his face was replaced by that of extreme pain. He jerked back in surprise as he noticed blood leaking off a hole in his forehead. Dimly, he realized that the Chief was standing there with that rod of his pointing towards the soldiers. He also noticed the arrows heading towards them as the soldiers got over their surprise at their leader dropping dead mid-sentence.

John didn't waste a moment as his motion tracker detected fifty new dots speeding towards him from above. Smirking, he realized that his tracker seemed to have picked up the arrows that the soldiers had shot. _Too slow_ he thought as he pulled a piece of equipment from his belt and threw it down. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Eragon looking on in wonder as a golden dome expanded around the group, blocking all the arrows and knocking them out of the air. _Five seconds left._ Thought Chief, he had to time this just right, or the day could end badly for his companions. _Four._ He pulled a plasma grenade out of his belt. _Three._ He checked the counter on his visor to see if it was full. _Two. A bright blue flare appeared as he pressed the detonator on the grenade. One. _He braced himself and once again brought his assault rifle to bear._ Zero. _The bubble shield collapsed just as he rushed forward, tossing the grenade at the group of soldiers clumped closest together. Turning, he depressed the trigger and the massacre began.

Eragon could only watch in awe as the blue ball the Chief had thrown detonated, swamping those close to the thing to be swamped in blue, crystalline fire. Turning the Chief twitched his finger and Eragon heard the sound of thunder. He watched in surprise as the rod spat bright fire towards his enemies at an unbelievable rate. Eragon could only hear the sound of a constant, staccato thunder filled the air around them. Jumping into action, he began to rush to the Chiefs aid, only to blink stupidly, as the soldiers turned and fled, leaving behind about thirty bodies. Ten of them were too burned to even be recognizable, _Ten dead, from such a small glowing rock?_ Eragon thought incredulously. Then he turned his attention to the twenty on the other side. Each one killed by the same small, hole that had punched through the armor like it wasn't even there. _What man can do this, so easily? I don't think that even the Riders of old had such power_ thought Eragon in awe.

The group watched in fascination as the Chief stood up from behind the log he was using as protection, scanned the forest, and fired, one last time. A lone archer dropped from the treetops. Shaking his head, the Chief then pulled out a small box with a lever attached and pressed it. The surrounding forest erupted in fire as Galbatorix's men screamed in pain as their bodies were vaporized by the blast.

"No witnesses" said Chief as he turned and casually continuing on.

The rest could only dumbly follow his lead. Eragon spared what remained one last glance of awe before telling Saphira what happened and hurrying to catch up.

_Arya has been in a stormy moon ever since the incident in the woods_ thought Eragon as he followed her between the trees. Lost in thought, he almost bumped into her as she came to a stop. "What is it?" asked Orik as he too came to a halt.

"We're here" replied Arya. "The gates of Ellesmera."

A/N: Well this chapter is done! Please review and tell me of your thoughts, any errors, and any mistakes you'd like corrected, as well as any suggestions. :) Have a nice day!


	7. Uprising

Disclaimer: I do not own Eragon or Halo.

A/N I'm sorry! I failed in my updating plan yesterday, but homework had started to catch up to me. However I managed to find some time to upload today (Horray!) Hopefully tommorrow will be another update but that is uncertain, I have a tournament and it may take up most of the evening, and school is obviously in the morning. However, I will try my best to upload another chapter tomorrow! Anyway, enjoy the chapter!

Chapter 7: Uprising

The rhythmic tramping of armored feet woke Roran. At first, he was confused, wondering why there was a parade outside. Getting up, he poked his head out the window. He was wide awake in an instant; eyes open in shock as a hundred men marched into Carvahall down the main road.

_What are they doing here? There is no trouble here that would warrant the King sending a hundred men here. _Thouhght Roran as he watched the armored procession make its way through the town.

Little did he know that the hundred men were not here to keep order, but to help the Ra'zac in their search for a certain blue stone.

Roran was walking down the road to meet Katrina, when he saw the disturbance on the road. Two of Galbatorix's men were demanding food from a family down the streets. When they resisted, the soldiers simply marched inside and took what they were looking for, plus a few more items, leaving the family in the dust as they contemptuously walked away.

Galbatorix's men had been doing this for quite some time now, taking and looting what wasn't theirs, hurting those who resisted.

_How can Galbatorix stand by when his men are being so cruel? _Roran quickly ran to where the man was lying on the ground. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"What does it look like?" the man groweled, spitting out blood from a cut inside of his mouth. "Those bastards took my wife's ring!"

Roran sighed, "Aye, but what can we do, they are the king's men, and any harm that befalls them will be repaid on this village tenfold."

"Aye, it would, but that can't stop me from wishing, can't it?"

Roran was about to reply when a warm spray hit his face. He stared in shock at the sword imbedded into the man's back. Taking a step backwards, he watched as the soldiers smiled menacingly at him.

"Do I hear you talking treason?" the soldier asked sweetly, a cruel smile upon his face. "I do hope you know the penalty for that" he continued as he took another step further, pulling the bloodstained blade from the man's back as he did so. "Well then, lets continue with the execution!" shouted the soldier as he swung his sword high up in the air, droplets of blood still streaming from the end.

Roran knew his time had come. He would not be able to rebuild his farm, to once again know the satisfaction that a good harvest brought. He would never see Katrina again. _Katrina_. At that moment, he knew he couldn't die. Not so he could continue living, but to save Katrina the agony of seeing his corpse dragged through the village before being dumped into the spine for the wild animals.

With a hoarse cry, Roran grabbed the nearest thing he could find and blocked the soldier's sword. _A hammer_, thought Roran.

The soldier didn't even have time to realize his stroke had been stopped before Roran withdrew the hammer and swung at his knee with all his might. However, he did manage to scream in pain as he felt his kneecap shatter. _No more adventuring for me…_ were his last thoughts.

Roran stepped back in shock, he hadn't aimed to kill. He had aimed for the shoulder, to cripple him, and prevent him from harming any others. However, he had missed when the soldier had bent down instinctively when he hit his knee. Instead of hitting the shoulder, the hammer had hit the man's nose, pushing the cartilage back and puncturing his brain, killing him instantly.

The soldier's followers took a collective step back, as they stared at him, eyes burning with hatred. They drew their swords as one and prepared to charge at him.

Roran stood frozen in shock, _I have killed a man_ he thought. It seemed like time had stopped. _I have killed a man. _Dimly he noticed the swords pointed at him. _I have killed a man, he probably had children somewhere, a family, a wife eagerly awaiting his return. Now that will never happen, and his children will never see him again. _He saw the soldier's companions shout something. _What are they waiting for, they should kill me now, now that I have killed a man._

Katrina watched in fear as Roran quickly dispatched the man who was attempting to kill him. Then, as the other soldiers advanced, he stood frozen to the ground, staring soundlessly at the ground in front of him. She cried out to Roran as the soldiers drew their blades. She cried for him to move, to fight back, anything but to stand there and get butchered like a pig.

Her cry alerted Horst and Sloan, both of which who came running for different reasons. Sloan came because Katrina had cried, Horst because of the name she cried. Taking in the situation, Sloan rushed forward with a bellow as he pulled two cleavers from his belt, and threw one at Horst. Grabbing it, both men rushed forward to Roran's aid.

Katrina sighed in relief as Horst and her father came and stopped the two soldiers. That relief disappeared as she saw the two strange hooded men walk out of the woods, hissing and clicking. By then, the whole village had gathered, united in their hatred for the king's men. Seeing that they were outnumbered, the men quickly left, leaving only the two hooded strangers.

"Mark my wordsss, you have disssobeyed the king, you have made him an enemy, you ssshall all die!" hissed the taller of the two as they dragged the body of the man away, never turning their backs on the troubled villagers.

Roran breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the two men leaving. Until he recalled their words. The enormity of his actions winded him, raising his hand against a soldier of Galbatorix; that was treason. By doing so, he had brought the king's wrath upon those whom he loved.

Several days had passed, the villagers attempting to go about their daily lives, but always living with the uncertainty of Galbatorix's men returning with reinforcements. Some were even talking about leaving, before Galbatorix himself came, riding upon his black dragon to raze their small village to the ground. Elsewhere, some naively believed that Galbatorix would not punish them, instead punishing those who had wronged their village.

A scream of rage echoed through the village square as Sloan stood in the middle, staring at his daughter who he loved more than anything in the world, a daughter that had abandoned him for a mere farmboy. "I see," gasped Sloan as a shudder escaped him. "So you choose him over me," a maddened glare appeared in his eye. "Then from this point on, you are no longer my daughter!" he screamed as he rushed at Roran, before being restrained by the villagers. Tears stained his cheeks as the betrayal of the person he cared about more than anything else rejected him.

Days later, Baldor came running in from the south, sprinting straight for his home, he rushed in, shutting the door and screaming for attention, so he could warn the village of the army of one thousand strong, marching to Carvahall.

Upon hearing the news, Horst paled and immediately gathered everyone, asking for what to do.

They had been arguing for hours now, some were proposing to leave; others stay to reason with the soldiers. _Idiots _thought Roran, _as if the King's men will listen to any reason._ He looked up to see everyone staring at him expectantly. "Uh, sorry, what did you say again?" he asked sheepishly, wondering whether he had thought aloud.

"What do you think we should do Roran?" asked Horst.

"I think that we should all leave, for Galbatorix's men will not listen to reason. You saw how a mere one hundred were, this time their numbers are tenfold. They also would be twice as cruel, they have someone to avenge. They will show no mercy to those who stay behind, they will kill us all." Roran stared at the standing ovation he was getting from Horst.

"Well said Roran, well said" shouted Horst. "We have no way of stopping Galbatorix's men, so we must leave! I have heard rumors during my travels of a country to the south, who declared their independence from the empire! If we head there, we may be able to live in peace away from the king's tyranny! What do you say friends, I for one know that I am going"

Even Roran felt motivated, as everyone raised their fists and shouted as one. "Aye! We shall travel there, and make ourselves a new life!"

Funny how quickly they worked after that, mused Roran, it had taken a few short days before everyone was packed, and ready to leave, although Sloan was still sulking and angry at Roran.

Horst looked to Roran, "The soldiers have reached the valley, and we won't be able to go through! We'll have to go through the spine!" He shouted, above the babble of the villagers.

Nodding grimly, Roran took the lead, placing a comforting hand over Katrina's shoulder. After all, he knew clear as day her fear for the place after her mother had died there when she was young. Slowly, the procession began to move, Roran leading due to his relative experience of the layout of the Spine. Cursing Eragon for leaving once again, he began walking.

Katrina had always hated heights, ever since her mother died in that fall off a cliff. But she endured it, _for Roran_ she thought. However, she failed to notice the small stone protruding from the ground until she was right upon it. With a cry, she fell, slipping down the steep hill. Dimly, she heard Roran and Sloan shout her name, and two other people sliding down after her. Suddenly, her decent was stopped as she ran into two people wearing cloaks. With a start of surprise, she looked up to see the two strange men who been asking questions through the village. She scuttled back in fear as Sloan came rushing down, too late to stop himself.

"What do we have here," hissed the Ra'zac as they advanced. "You two ssshall make a fine ransssom for the disssobedient one" they continued, before binding her and Sloan.

Roran could only watch helplessly as He watched Katrina dragged away with Sloan by the two cloaked strangers who had killed his father simply because he was in the way and did not have any information on Eragon.

"Katrina!" His pained cry came from his very soul, as he watched helplessly from where he was trapped against two trees, after one had trapped him when he ran full on into it during his mad rush down the hill. "KATRINA!" He screamed as her lifeless form disappeared into the forest. _Katrina, _he thought miserably, as the villagers finally managed to reach him and set him free from the prison of the branches. _Katrina, I'm so sorry, but I will find you, and some day, I will set you free_ he thought, his reserve and determination returning to him as he continued on with the villagers _Once I have fulfilled my obligations to lead them to Surda, I will come after you, my love. Eragon is also hunting them, for different reasons than I, but his reason may also partly be my reason. Perhaps he may be able to help me get you back, but know this, Katrina, no matter the cost, I will save you, even if I have to kill King Galbatorix myself._

A/N: Thats it, this is the new chapter! Again, tomorrow I have a tight schedule, so I'll be doing my best to upload, but no promises! Tuesday will be a double upload to make up for it (I hope). Please tell me what you think and reveiw!


	8. The Reclaimer's Arrival

Disclaimer: I don't own Eragon or Halo.

A/N: Sorry! I have a test tomorrow so I had to remain studying it, so this will be the only chapter today!, Sorry! anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter, as I tried to make it a bit more humorous (you have to have watched the earlier seasons of Red vs Blue to get these inside jokes. If you haven't, then I suggest you watch it ASAP :)) anyway, here's the chapter.

Chapter 8: The Reclaimer's Arrival

"We're here" replied Arya. "The gates of Ellesmera."

John blinked. _What gates?_ All he could see was an endless expanse of forest; there was nothing to indicate that there was a thriving city here. _Has the elf gone mad?_ His companions were looking similarly confused, as they stared around them in a vain attempt to find the legendary city.

John was just about to administer a mental stability test on Arya when his motion tracker blinked, showing a single white dot directly in front of him. _Unknown designation, this deep inside a forest of this magnitude, it is most likely an elf._ He opened his mouth to warn his companions.

Before he even got a single syllable out, an old elf materialized in front of him, causing everyone but Arya and himself to jump backwards and curse. _How did that old elf manage to cloak himself? It can't be an active camouflage, that technology is one of the most confidential secrets, right next to the continuing SPARTAN, MJOLNIR, and NOVA programs. So it must be through magic, although how such things can happen is beyond me._ Outwardly, he displayed no reaction to the sudden appearance of the old elf, although on the inside he was tensed and ready for instant action should the elf prove hostile.

"Show him your hand and your ring Eragon," said Arya. "It shall prove to him that you are trustworthy enough to enter the city."

Hurriedly, Eragon obeyed, showing both the mark on his palm and the ring given to him by Brom.

The elf merely stood there, a serene expression on his face. He slowly frowned as he turned his head towards John. "Dauthleikr, ono tauthr du gata abr dauth. Ganga dauthleikr!" (Mortal, you follow the path of death. Leave now mortal!) He slowly shook his head as he gestured with his hand. It was obviously a sign of dismissal.

Not a second after the old elf uttered the phrase, a blinding flash of light lit up the forest, causing everyone to cry out in shock; everyone, except John. His visor automatically adjusted to the blinding flash of light and allowed him to immediately notice the millions of tiny forerunner symbols rushing out in a large ring.

As the old elf saw the script, his eyes widened and looking at John again said only one word. "Relcaimer?"

As he said that word, the ring around them blinked out, and everyone was able to stagger back to their feet.

Arya's eyes were narrowed as she looked at John. "What did you do? Where did you get such a comprehensive version of the Ancient Language? There were symbols even I did not recognize, and I know all of them." Drawing her blade, she pointed it at John and continued. "Speak, or I shall wrest the information from you, even If I have to gather all the elves together to do it."

At this the old elf stepped up. "Do not fear, Arya Drottonugu, for he is here to help. If what was written in that ring is correct, then his help will be essential for the dethroning of Galbatorix; for he is the heir of a race far stronger than even the grey ones."

Arya slowly lowered her sword slowly as she glared suspiciously at him. "I will listen to Gelderin for now. However, make one mistake, and I will not hesitate in taking your life."

John nodded; he had expected no less from the proud elf. _Not that that sword would even be able to dent my shields…_

Stepping aside, Gelderin allowed the party to pass.

As they walked, John began to notice some things. At first, they weren't very conspicuous, a branch growing strangely here, an out of place root there… but eventually, John realized that they were structures, homes growing out of the trees themselves. _Talk about green, this gives the word tree house a whole new meaning. _As they continued, Elves began to trickle out from the tree houses. Angular faces staring at them, or more specifically Saphira. Dead silence reigned until an elf walked out, dressed in a cloak decorated with swan feathers. She had a large escort following her, signifying a high rank most likely the Queen herself. _She was called Queen Islanzadi_, recalled John.

Stepping forward, Islanzadi swept forward and embraced Arya. "Oh my daughter, how I have wronged you!" she exclaimed. "After all these years serving as the bearer of the egg, you have finally returned, and I beg your forgiveness!"

Almost all elves there began crying at that declaration.

John simply raised an eyebrow.

Eragon's mouth dropped.

Saphira yawned.

The elves immediately stopped crying and rushed towards Saphira, smiling and laughing as they expressed their joy at the sight of the dragon.

John mentally facepalmed.

"I forgive you," murmured Arya, as she and her mother stood secluded and having a private conversation.

"Very well, thank you Arya," said Islanzadi as she raised her voice "To celebrate the return of my daughter, and the uncovering of a dragon rider to renew our hopes, we shall have a feast today!"

The elves ran off to prepare.

Saphira huffed, annoyed at the lack of attention.

The elves rushed back to keep her company.

The elves looked at Islanzadi's disapproving frown.

They rushed to prepare again.

Saphira huffed again.

The elves rushed back.

John simply left the clearing to do some target practice, shaking his head in the process.

The feast was excellent. At least, it looked excellent. John never took off his helmet in a potentially hostile environment, and he didn't trust his helmet's waste disposal system, even after one of the AI aboard the _Infinity_ told him that it was out of beta (Check out the episode "Oversight" in season 10 of RvB it's a reference).

But that was diverging from the point, He had naturally been surprised at the other rider and dragon hiding in Ellesmera waiting for Eragon, but he knew that it was essential to the success for the overthrowing of Galbatorix so he didn't say anything. Today however, he was almost to his breaking point at having to watch the elf called Vanir contemptuously deal with Eragon, not even bothering to hide his scorn at his skills in swordsmanship. John watched as Vanir once again crushed Eragon and began walking away, he watched as Eragon resorted to magic, he watched as Vanir defeated Eragon yet again, and aggravated Eragon's scar, again.

That was the final straw. Even though John had known Eragon for only a month at most, he genuinely liked the boy, and to see his hard work scorned by an inexperienced elf was too much for him. He began walking forward.

"You! Vanir, I challenge you to a duel," shouted John as he stepped into the ring of silent watchers.

Vanir spun around and curled his lip contemptuously. "Another weak human? I suggest you leave this place now, for you are so weak, that it would be easier for me to kill a beetle than you."

The elves gasped as he said this, muttering disapprovingly among themselves.

John ignored him as he pulled out his energy blade, a gift to him from Thel during that ill-fated visit to Sanghelios. The blade of pure white plasma cut through the gloom of the forest floor as it blazed to life.

Vanir narrowed his eyes as he gazed upon the energy sword, and drew his own. "Then let us begin," he said, not even bothering to guard his blade.

Jumping forward, Vanir executed an overhead swing, hoping to cleave John in half. John watched the blade swing down. _Pathetic, _he thought _I've seen grunts swing better during the human-covenant war, and they weren't even ALLOWED TO USE ONE._ He simply sidestepped.

Vanir's eyes widened as the expected resistance did not come, and he stumbled forward, struggling to regain his balance. Dancing sideways, John's blade missed him by an inch. Vanir winced as the superheated plasma burnt through his tunic, and caused a line of blisters to appear in a neat line on the side of his stomach.

John's eyes narrowed as he stabilized himself again, awaiting Vanir's next strike. _Fast_ he thought. Just as the thought was completed, he saw Vanir lunge at him, hate filling his eyes as he forgot that this was currently only a duel. Vanir's sword hit John head on. The elves gasped as they witnessed Vanir's stab go towards John with no sign of stopping. They rushed forward but it was already too late. Vanir's sword connected with John. John watched as the sword hit him in the midsection. He watched his shields flare as they repelled the strike. He laughed; the shields hadn't even shown a noticeable drain. _I'm putting that at about a musket round in terms of destruction_ thought John as he continued on with the duel. Swinging the energy sword backhanded, the elves jumped back, shock showing on their faces as they realized he wasn't harmed.

"How?" Vanir whispered as he took a step back in shock.

John snorted. "That's classified information" he said. He swung his own sword in an overhead strike of his own. Vanir raised his sword, thinking to block the strike. In theory it would have worked; IF John was using a normal blade(Actually, Vanir's blade wouldn't have been able to withstand a blow from a one ton walking tank no matter what situation it was in). In reality, the blade simply sheared through the sword, forcing Vanir to jump back to avoid getting cauterized by the blade.

The elves had grown silent with shock as they saw the tip of the elven blade sheared off like it was a piece of cheese. Unconsciously, they took a step back.

John laughed mercilessly. "Get a new blade elf, I am still not finished with you," He said.

Vanir nodded wordlessly as he quickly ran off to find a new blade.

After an hour, Vanir came back, another gleaming blade in his hand.

John deactivated his energy sword, and pulled out his combat knife. "I'll go easy on you elf, since you seem to need it."

Vanir's eyes narrowed at the insult. With a cry, he rushed John again.

John's world seemed to slow down as his augmentations and training came into effect. He raised his knife and blocked Vanir's blade again. He then ducked underneath and lunged towards Vanir with the knife. He saw Vanir duck to the right and adjusted his swing. Vanir's sword shattered again against the reinforced Titanium-A alloy. Standing, John sighed and told him to get another weapon.

John mentally sighed, _why do these people have such an honor code? No striking an unarmed opponent? Back in the war, any marine or soldier would have fired without question. Ah well, I'll go by their honor code to prevent an international incident. _He waited for another hour. This time, Vanir arrived with a hammer, and a shield. "Going for the stronger, blunt objects now huh?" asked John as he sheathed his knife. "Then I shall fight accordingly too. The fight didn't last five seconds as John punched through the shield, grabbed the hammer, and snapped it between two fingers. He then threw Vanir down to the ground.

"Get up" said John "I'm still not finished yet, in fact, warm-up just got done, so find another weapon and we shall continue."

Vanir groaned as he got off the ground. He stared at John in fear as he scurried away to find a suitable weapon to fight him with.

John was sitting by a tree, dozing while he waited for Vanir to come back. Upon hearing the jingle of equipment, he stood up, to see Vanir in a suit of elven armor, holding a small shield on his left arm while he held a spear in his right. An assortment of swords, daggers, hammers, and maces adorned his belt and a large tower shield was strapped to his back.

John laughed. "So bringing out the heavy armor huh? He turned to the elves. "Mind if I use my own?" Mutely, the elves nodded.

15 minutes later, a M808G MBT was sitting in the clearing. This was a major upgrade from the standard M808MBT used during the Human-Covenant war; it now mounted a 120mm rail-gun that was devastating to both soft and hard targets. In addition, the single 7.62 machinegun had been upgraded to a dual 50 caliber heavy MG. A coaxial machine gun was also added to the turret, and the Titanium-A armor plating was increased dramatically, as well as the engine. It was now capable of travelling at well over 70 km/h while weighing over 100 tons. It was a major feat to the engineers who designed the thing.

"That looks like a scorpion?" murmured an elf to another.

"Well what else does it look like?" asked the second Elf, as he snorted in amusement.

"I don't know, I was thinking it looks more like a dragon, you know, that top part is its tail and the glowing thing's in front is its mouth spewing fire…" The first elf trailed off.

_On the Crags of Tel'naeír_

Oromis and Glaedr were scrying the battle.

_Why do you always get the bowl to yourself?_ Complained Glaedr

_Hush I'm spying on the new human _shot back an annoyed Oromis.

_But you always get the bowl!_

_Hush!_

After a few minutes, Glaedr built up the courage to ask another question.

_What's that? _He asked.

_I don't know, It looks like some sort of giant animal, with four legs, like a… like a…_

_Like a dragon?_ Asked Glaedr.

_Ya that_ thought Oromis.

_Back to the duel_

John turned to Vanir, "Are you ready?" He asked, smirking under his helmet.

Vanir shook his head frantically as he backed up tripping over his equipment in his hurry to get away from the scary-looking titanium monster in front of him.

John shrugged. "Well Galbatorix won't wait for you to be ready either so…" He let the sentence trail off as he looked at Vanir, then to the tank, then to Vanir again. He got in, and closed the hatch. The headlights automatically turned on, and a cool, female voice spoke from inside the beast.

"Hello, and welcome to the M808 Main Battle Tank, you may call me… Sheila. Would you like me to run the tutorial?"

"Negative, lock target and fire" said John.

"Affirmative, target locked. Firing main cannon…"

The cannon roared, the earth shook, and in the clamor, a voice could be heard rising over the clamor easily. "SON OF A B-," the disembodied voice screamed.

"Firing main cannon…"

BOOM

"Firing main cannon…"

BOOM

John threw his honor out the window as he stepped on the six directional pedals and started rolling forward.

That day, Ellesmera rang with the roar of the Scorpion's engine, and the boom of its gun. Oh, and the voice in the background screaming "SON OF A BITCH!"

On the Crags of Tel'naeír, Oromis sighed as he murmured "humans these days, so rash."

Glaedr rumbled an agreement.

Far off in the forest, a voice screamed again: "SON OF A BITCH!"

A/N: Well there it is! new chapter! I hope you enjoyed it. I incorporated a few running gags from RvB in this chapter, so cookie to anyone that knows which ones I chose! :) another update will MOST LIKELY be tomorrow, so don't quote me if it isn't here... Tests suck. Anyway, Bye everyone!


	9. Exodus

Disclaimer: I do not own Eragon or Halo

A/N: wow, I wrote over 3k words today, that's the most I have ever written in a fanfiction :) I might have to slow my updating down a bit, because homework is REALLY catching up to me, and my grades are starting to show it, as well as my teachers' opinions of me :/. Most of the time, I love technology, because I can share my ideas with you guys! however, there are times where I just wish that the internet has never existed, nor the telephone. Technology can be VERY annoying at times. anyway, I'm rambling now so I'll stop and move on to the chapter.

Chapter 9: Exodus

"Horathgar, while you're hospitality to the Varden is appreciated; we must now depart for Surda, to begin our offensive against the empire. We must continue on with our side of the plan, and draw Galbatorix's attention away from the forest of Du Weldenvarden," said Nasuada.

"I understand, we shall remain here in our city, to begin our own preparations. When war breaks out, the dwarves will be beside the humans every step of the way," said Horathgar solemnly.

Thel watched as Nasuada sighed in relief. He nodded to himself, a good leader indeed. She just needed to believe in herself more, to gain confidence in her position and decisions.

"One question though, how will you transport your people to Surda? It is a long journey that takes weeks, even months. How will you get those that are still recuperating to Surda?" asked Horathgar, as he frowned thoughtfully.

Nasuada stopped dead in her path as the thought reached her mind. "I-I don't know," she murmured, what confidence she used to have already crumbling.

Thel knew he would have to step in, before Nasuada's resolve crumbled. After all, a weak leader was worse than no leader. "I can help you with that," he said. "The _Infinity_ has many vehicles specifically designed for the transport of personnel, even if they are critically wounded. In fact, I suggest that you take the wounded aboard the _infinity_ so that our doctors can treat them more efficiently. Those uninjured will travel in our troop transports to Surda. With the vehicles, we can arrive there in two days at the latest."

The two other leaders stared in shock. "Two days? You do know that Surda is several hundred leagues from here do you?" they asked together in shock.

Thel simply snorted. "The _Infinity _can orbit this entire planet in two days. The jets aboard it can do it in a few hours. Vehicles excel at transporting men and supplies no matter where they are. We'll get all your men to Surda in a week. Do not fear for delays, unless we should encounter resistance."

Nasuada nodded. "If you can bring all my men to Surda in such a short amount of time, then I am in your debt. Your people have already helped us so much, providing advanced treatment several times more effective than our current means, and provisioning us with food. How will I be able to repay it all?" she asked.

Thel thought for a moment before replying. "You can repay me by treating your subjects well, and after we take Galbatorix's capital, you shall rule justly, and punish wrongdoers and corrupt officials. Train your successor well, and leave a long line of noble kings and queens, so those under them shall never suffer what they are suffering now. Most of all, tell your subjects the truth and the truth only, never lie to them, and most importantly, never betray anyone that is working for you."

Nasuada nodded, surprised at the terms. "If that is all that you want, then I shall become such a leader, and strive to become a better ruler, unto my dying day." She bowed, before whispering, "Thank you, Thel."

Thel nodded before walking away. He had a journey to organize.

Thel had just finished informing Lasky about the plans to relocate the Varden. He hoped the human would forgive him for volunteering his services before he asked. Lasky had waved it off, saying that he was outranked by Thel, and technically, until they got back Thel was the shipmaster of the _Infinity_. Thel blinked as he realized what Lasky had said was correct. Shaking away the thought, he gave the order to begin the operation.

Turning, Thel walked out to inform Nasuada to gather her men.

Everyone watched in awe as pelican after pelican swooped into the valley outside entrances to the tunnels. Each one dropped a single M12 LRV onto the ground before flying off.

Nasuada turned to Thel and asked, "Three people per vehicle?" She asked "That would take too long, and there are not enough here to allow for all my men to go."

Thel laughed, then replied, "Lady, these are not to bring your troops to Surda, if they were, then we would be there in less than two hours. These are their escorts, to prevent a Galbatorix from trying any tricks." Then thought for a few moments, then continued, "Actually, these are only the lighter branch of our reinforcements, the heavy armor will be here any second now." Just as he finished, a fleet of Albatross birds flew in, and began dropping their payloads: the M808G MBT.

"Well where are the transports? Also, why can't we all just fly there, you certainly seem to have a lot of those bird things." Nasuada never ceased to be awed as she witnessed the ships, each weighing more than Saphira, fly off at a speed that would make the elves themselves jealous.

Thel patiently explained his reasoning. "Our pelicans and albatross gunships fly at their optimal range when they are very high above the surface, we are used to flying at such heights, but for you and your men, you will pass out from the lack of oxygen because you are not used to regulating your breathing. Once you pass out, we would have to fly downwards, so you don't die of asphyxiation. All in all, it would take even longer to be frequently changing altitude, and we don't want to be able to warn Galbatorix that we are superior with our air support. That surprise will be an invaluable advantage in future battles, I do not wish to waste it doing a task that simple transports can do."

Nasuada nodded, it made sense after all. "Then where are the transports?" she asked, looking around.

Thel pointed to the top of a mountain. "There," he said.

Nasuada's mouth dropped open in surprise.

Climbing over the peak, were several massive tracked vehicles, larger than even the albatrosses.

"Meet the M510B Mammoth II Ultra-Heavy Defense Platform. It can go at speeds up to 30km/h with its modified starship grade engine, even though it weighs just less than 900 tons," said Thel as he stepped forward to organize the men for departure and escort.

Nasuada shook her head in amazement at the sheer size of the mammoths, and at their relative speed. _It's like moving a mountain_ she thought, as she began to lead the Varden into the vehicles.

_Hadrac Desert_

A plume of dust drifted into the air as the armored column slowly advanced with their escorts. The M12 LRVs keeping watch and scouting any enemies they might encounter.

Aboard the lead mammoth, Thel stood in front of the command console as he talked to the commander of one of the warthogs.

Frowning, he cut the com, and turned to the anxious leader of the Varden. We've sighted several thousand men marching on an intercepting course towards us, there is no doubt we have been sighted. Keying his com again, Thel cursed the shape, adapted for humans, and definitely not elites. Ignoring the awkwardness that the motion brought, he alerted the column of the incoming hostiles.

Immediately, the scorpions and warthogs tightened their formation and began preparations for an engagement.

Far off in the horizon, the commander of Galbatorix's soldiers hand-picked to destroy the Varden smiled, as he urged his horse forward, towards the massive wall of sand and dust marking where the Varden were for all to see.

The operator of Alpha Platoon's lead scorpion frowned as he noticed the first rider come in range.

"Alpha One reporting, hostile forces in range and closing, permission to engage?" Thel turned towards the location marked by Alpha Platoon and watched. "Permission granted," He growled.

The commander cut his mic, and turned his attention towards the horseman. "Alright you bastard, time for you to eat some explosives," he muttered to himself as a maniacal grin spread across his face.

The commander of Galbatorix's men fell back, selecting another to take his spot, as they rode forwards. He knew that they weren't going to give up without a fight. _No sense in dying in the opening skirmish_ he thought. Then he was thrown from the saddle as his horse jerked up in fright at the blinding flash of light right where his vanguard was. His mouth opened in a shout of surprise at the sudden turn of events. However, his cry never came out of his mouth as he was hit from behind by a three ton vehicle charging through the rear of his men at over 72 kilometers per hour.

Nasuada watched as the warthogs disengaged from the column and fell back; concealing themselves in the smoke plume left in the wake of the mammoths. She watched as the scorpions began firing their 120mm cannons, the steady thump not unlike thunder. And she watched as the warthogs drove out on the flanks of Galbatorix's men, completing their maneuver, and leaving the hopelessly under armed men of Galbatorix's army against the hammer of the warthogs, and the anvil of the scorpions.

It dissolved into a whirling melee as the 50 caliber HMGs opened up, and tore into the demoralized men. However, the battle was not yet lost, as Galbatorix's men weren't handpicked by the king himself for nothing. They regrouped, firing their bows at the warthogs in the hope of killing a driver through the stupidly open sides. Their shots were stopped as the shield generators on the hogs turned on, and deflected all shots aimed at their drivers. The contrary could not be said, as the chain gun continued to unleash flurries of DU bullets towards their victims. The remaining magicians grouped towards the center, as they began gathering their energy, and started chanting.

Several green bolts shot from the severely depleted group of men and shot towards the closest scorpion. "Oh shit," said the driver, as he realized the lights were too close. Closing his eyes, he fired his last shot and waited for the impact.

BOOM the green bolts tore through the scorpion's shields and splashed onto the Titanium-A underneath. By sheer luck, one flew down the 120mm gun, and destroyed the round that was in the process of being loaded. The resulting explosion detonated the ammunition rack and the turret was blown clean off.

_So they can be killed_ thought the magicians, as a spark of hope ignited in their minds.

Another volley of lights flew towards another scorpion. The driver saw them coming and immediately turned his gun away from the lights. Once again, they tore through the shields of his scorpion. However, this time the remaining projectiles splashed harmlessly across the armor plating. A rattle of arrows followed against his periscope as the soldiers unleashed a hail of arrows at the relatively exposed tank. The driver sighed in relief, before turning the gun back onto the killing ground. Urging his tank forward with the six drive pads, he was not expecting the solid _CLANG_ as a rock flew against his lower frontal plate, leaving a dent in the titanium. _How the hell did a rock dent titanium?_ He thought. His musings were interrupted by another rock thrown at him by a magician. This one hit his turret, disabling one of the laser rangefinders on top of the tank. He switched to the backup rangefinder, cursing as he did so. He nodded in satisfaction as the one who threw the offending rock was torn into pieces by his coaxial machine gun. The urgent blaring of his alarms finally died down as his shields recharged and stabilized again.

Thel had seen enough, he was not one to sit safely inside a moving fortress as those under him risked their lives. Charging his shields, he walked out of the room, heading towards the armory to pick up his energy sword.

The deck was filled with snipers, from the few jackals who remained loyal to the elites, to a team of Spec Ops Elites. They snapped their attention away from their scopes as Thel walked out, flanked by four hunters. They bowed in respect as Thel's company left the craft to join the battle outside. They turned their attention back to their scopes. Their competition for the most headshots continued.

Thel walked out, in time to see a warthog hit by several of the green bolts. It detonated before him in a flash of light, the crew didn't even have time to scream. Thel winced at their deaths. As their commander, he felt a connection to every one of his subordinates, and every death tore at his conscious. _Never mind them, their families shall receive the highest honors for their sacrifice, and tales of their battles shall be woven into their battle-poems to remain for generations of heroes._

Pulling out two plasma rifles, he rushed forward to attack the enemy, his hunters following close by.

The soldier thought he was doing pretty well, considering the odds stacked against him, after all, he had managed to pick off about two snipers from the top of the strange land-boats that the Varden were now using to transport their men. He looked up from his reloading in time to see a monstrous face, emerge from the dust, four of its mandibles spread in a terrifying roar. He froze in fear, and failed to notice the shield twice his size hit him on the back of the head.

Thel nodded at the hunter, before turning his attention back towards the enemy. He rushed towards another clump as two beams of brilliant green plasma tore into the men, melting anything it touched, and reducing armor and swords into a molten slag. Firing his plasma rifles, he added another twenty kills to his count, as he changed his course. A pink needle flashed by his head, and buried itself, along with another two into the head of one of the soldiers. A flash of pink later and another cluster of dead soldiers joined the growing numbers.

Nasuada looked on in awe as hundreds of multicolored beams flashed through the air, forming a web of deadly beams, which decimated anything it touched. She was beginning to notice a difference between the strange aliens and the strange foreigners, even though both came from the sky. The foreigners used weapons that created thunder, and relied on different materials to pierce through armor, like butter. However, the aliens relied on light to literally _melt_ their enemies and cauterize any wound they inflicted.

Back on the battlefield, Thel cursed as his plasma rifles ran out of power. He holstered them and drew his sword. Throwing a plasma grenade, he rushed another group of soldiers who had just finished destroying a scorpion through the strange lights they conjured from their palms. The grenade exploded in a flash of plasma, overwhelming the wards of half of the magicians. Thel continued on with his rush to the weakened magicians, and cut through four of them with a single flick of his wrist. Not a single drop of blood fell, as the sword passed cleanly through his victims, cauterizing the flesh, and killing them instantly. The rest ran off to recuperate.

Thel gave chase, only to realize that the scorpions were being overwhelmed by sheer numbers, as their guns began to overheat, despite the advanced cooling system. Some of the scorpions had run out of both bullets and shells, and had retreated into the mammoths to resupply. He rushed to help out.

Galbatorix's soldiers felt a savage triumph as they overwhelmed the smaller force through sheer numbers alone, as individual soldiers got past the giant beasts that breathed fire more devastating than a dragon's. Some had even retreated, presumably to keep their monsters safe, and to resupply. They knew that the Varden did not have enough men, and no matter how powerful their strange bows were, they could not kill them all at once.

Thel rushed behind the preoccupied soldiers, and killed thirty men before they even knew he was there. He quickly dodged the halberd that was aimed at his head. Even though his shields would hold for hours on end against such primitive weapons, it would not do to waste a charge, as it was obvious that his shields could not recharge due to the number of soldiers attempting to kill him. Wresting aside his thoughts, he lunged forwards and stabbed his blade through the man's stomach. A trail of smoke rose from the cut due to the heat of his blade. Checking his visor he noted that his sword was also running dangerously low on power. Keying his com, he ordered all escort vehicles to fake a retreat back and to turn back and ambush them when they were occupied with the ramps leading up inside the mammoths. Turning, he ordered all men to retreat up the ramps.

Thel was the last to reach the ramps, clearing it with over a meter in distance from the closest imperial soldier. Running past the ramp, he activated the defense systems of the mammoth, causing autosentries to deploy from the ceiling in addition to the row of heavy machine guns and plasma cannons. Thel even spotted a squad of human marines with 102mm M41 rocket launchers. He inwardly grinned to himself as he pulled out the M7057 flamethrower from a case mounted on a wall. He turned around and rejoined the fight.

The soldiers were already demoralized, as they grouped in front of the ramps, the machine guns had opened up again, and this time, there was no way to flank the deadly gun emplacements. So they began pushing over the corpses of their comrades, only to be cut into ribbons as the much faster firing auto-sentries opened up, tearing through their armor with just as much ease as their heavier counterparts. The sight of the alien rushing them while holding a canister that spewed fire like a portable dragon was the last straw. The soldiers' courage broke as they struggled against the bloodbath on the ramps. They turned to flee, only to find their way blocked by the returning warthogs, as they once again trapped them. This time however, there was no one left to continue to fight, and not a single one was left alive to tell the tale of what had happened after the machine guns shut off.

A rousing cheer rose from the assembled men as the larger army was completely wiped out. The men immediately set out to clear the ramps by tossing the bodies unceremoniously outside. Afterwards, they dragged in all damaged and destroyed tanks and hogs. Finally, Thel gave the order to continue on their way, leaving only the remains of Galbatorix's men, and hundreds of crows circling overhead.

They finally arrived in Surda, to find a crowd cheering and waving for them in front of the capital. Thel guessed that news of his success had travelled fast. He shrugged, preparing himself for the endless stream of nobles praising him. Nevertheless, Thel noted that he would rather be captured by the Gravemind again than listen to another word of praise directed towards him.

A/N: Thats it! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and I would love any comments/feedback for it. I would appreciate any constructive criticism that is thrown my way. After all, you are only trying to help me! :) Thank you all for being so awesome!


	10. Terim

Disclaimer: I do not own Eragon or Halo

A/N: I'm sorry! I'm late again! at least it's not a month long wait... I wont do that to you guys, I promise! Anyway, my chapters seem to be getting longer and longer, so I guess that's part of the reason why. anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter, and special thanks to those constantly reviewing and providing their suppourt!

Chapter 10: Terim

Roran looked back as the rest of the people of Carvahall staggered into the clearing. It had been several weeks in the Spine, and thankfully they had made it out with only a few minor wounds. The worst was when a villager broke his leg when he slipped and fell off a steep hillside towards a cliff. Thankfully, his decent had been slowed by a bush which caught his arm, causing him to break the leg when his body swung into a rock at full force. At least he was still alive.

Roran returned his gaze forward, looking at the magnificent walls of Terim. His plan had been to hire a ship to carry them to Surda, and if there was a ship that would do that, his first place to look would be Terim. Turning back, he motioned for Horst and Baldor to follow him as he walked towards the gates.

"Hold, state your name and business traveler," shouted one of the guards beside the gate.

Roran calmly replied "We are here to charter a ship for a delivery."

The guard was not satisfied, "What are you planning on delivering?" He asked.

Roran was at a loss for words, he had not thought that far in his cover up story yet.

"We are here to deliver livestock, our village has been destroyed, and we are in desperate need for money to rebuild. We were hoping to find a buyer here in the walls of Terim," said Horst, as he stepped up to cover Roran's lapse.

The guard nodded sympathetically. "Aye you'll find a buyer of livestock here," he said as he stepped aside to let them pass.

"Thanks" Roran muttered to Horst as they stepped into Terim.

"No problem, it's not only your life on the line here, it's all of ours.

Looking up, Roran realized that he was in the center of the city, right beside the notification pole. Curiosity got the better of him as he walked up to it to take a look. To his shock, he saw his own image staring back at him, with a price of 50,000 for whoever captured or killed him. _I'm that valuable to the empire?_ Thought Roran. His shock was immediately swamped when he saw Eragon's image, with a price of over two million for his capture only. It also stated that if anyone brought in a dead Eragon, they would be punished greatly.

_What in the world did Eragon do to the king to piss him off this much? Leading to capture only? That means that the King is planning on his own methods of torture, or that means that the King wants him for a twisted use _thought Roran in shock.

Continuing on, he saw another wavier, this one offering a 100,000 reward for information leading to the discovery of the force of two million men sent into the Hadrac Desert._ No doubt the men got lost, and died from thirst _thought Roran.

Shaking his head, Roran resolved to grow a beard as he entered the nearest tavern.

"I'm looking for someone who would be willing to deliver some cargo at an extremely low price" Said Roran hopefully, although he had grave doubts of who would actually accept.

A man in the back snorted, no one here kid, although your best bet would be Jeod, he's been desperate for work lately, but no one is willing to ask him, because his goods have been consistently targeted by pirates these days, the poor man can't send a ship out without it being lost at sea.

At this, Roran's interest was piqued, "Where does this Jeod live?" he asked as he walked towards the man.

The man thought for a while, "He's in the rich neighborhood, you'll find him next door to a closed apothecary. It's down the road, to the left."

Roran nodded his thanks and left the tavern. He walked to the door the man had pointed out and knocked on it timidly. A woman answered the door, and glared at him questioningly. "Does Jeod live here?" asked Roran nervously. He did not like the glare that the woman was giving him.

"Jeod is in his study," she said stiffly, "please wait for me to get him."

Roran gave a mental sigh of relief as the woman walked away, presumably to get Jeod. After a few minutes, a tall man with dark rings around his eyes walked down the hall towards them. Smiling shakily, he introduced himself, "I am Jeod, what may I help you with?"

"We wish to charter a ship, to be able to transport a herd of animals," Said Roran.

Jeod smiled sadly, "I'm afraid I cannot help, my ships are disappearing and no one will be willing to take such a job from me. Superstition you see, - here, how about you come in and I can discuss other options, I can see that you desperately need help, and it is not in my nature to leave those in need to rot in the streets."

Roran nodded as he and his companions stepped in. "Roran, do you think we can trust him?" murmured Horst, as they walked down the hall.

"Do we have a choice Horst? After all, we have no other way to get to Surda," replied Roran.

Suddenly, they noticed Jeod had stopped. Slowly, Jeod turned around, and asked slowly, "Roran? As in Eragon's cousin?" he asked.

Roran felt a flash of panic, as he stood rooted to the spot, berating himself for being so careless.

Horst lunged forward, and pulled his knife from his belt, putting it at Jeod's neck and whispering menacingly, to him "What do you know about Eragon, and Roran?" he hissed. "I want to hear some answers. Talk!"

Despite the dagger at his neck, Jeod turned to Roran and smiled, "Yes, I can see the resemblance, although Eragon seemed to be a shade shorter than you."

Roran's interest was piqued, "You know Eragon?" he asked.

"Yes, he and Brom passed by a few months ago, tracking down the Ra'zac who I believe killed your father," Said Jeod. "Just in case you don't believe me, Brom is an old man, who walks with a staff, and carried the occupation of a storyteller in your village, am I correct? Eragon was the smaller version of you, with a quick temper and never stops asking questions. Now, can you please release me so that we can talk in the privacy of my study?" asked Jeod.

Roran nodded to Horst, signaling him to let go of Jeod. "Very well," he said.

Jeod closed the door with a sigh, turning back to them and offering them a smile. "Perhaps we can exchange our stories?" he asked.

Roran nodded and began retelling his journey.

Afterwards, Jeod leaned back and smiled, "Incredible, for you to bring the entire village here, from one of the most important cities in the empire, and have no one the wiser, just incredible." Turning his attention back to Roran, he smiled, saying "Then it appears that I can help you after all, however, I also will have to go with you."

Roran quickly tried to speak, but Jeod cut him off "No, no, I was meaning to move on my own, however, I did not have the crew to make an escape from Terim, and I cannot sail a ship alone. However, now that you are here, we may be able to help each other, and all escape to Surda, provided that you allow me to come with you of course."

"That would be no problem" replied Roran, "But what do you propose to do?"

Jeod smirked, "did you see that ship out there, when you were walking down the street?" he asked pointing to a ship in the harbor.

Roran nodded his affirmation.

"That is the Dragon's Wing, the fastest ship in the empire. I propose we hijack it and sail for Surda. It'll be at least three days before the empire will be able to put together a force to chase us down, and by then, we'll be long gone," said Jeod.

Roran slowly nodded. It was an excellent plan in his mind. "Let's do it then, when should we begin?"

Jeod seemed mildly surprised, "How about tomorrow, there's no sense in waiting any longer." He said.

Roran nodded, "We'll be there."

_The next day_

Roran led the village of Carvahall through the gates, and to Jeod's home, where they would be staying until Baldor came to get them. His handpicked men had concealed some equipment so as to help them with hijacking the _Dragon's Wing_.

Meeting up with Jeod, who had a rapier strapped to his waist, Roran and his men continued to the wharfs.

Nodding to each other, and confirming the plan, Roran and his men quickly slipped into the water while the guards were distracted by Jeod. Climbing the rigging like they were born to, Roran silently jumped onto the deck with his men. Within minutes, the ship was theirs.

Signaling Baldor to get the villagers, Roran settled down and waited for the next step.

After hearing a shout from Baldor several minutes later, Roran stood to see the village beginning to embark. Roran's satisfaction quickly turned to horror as the alarms began ringing, and soldiers started rushing towards the wharf.

The villagers also heard the alarm. Abandoning their supplies, they quickly stampeded up onto the boat and began pushing away from the harbor with the long wooden poles designed for the purpose. Sighing, Roran joined them, noting that their food supplies were now dangerously low, as many lay discarded on the pier.

Pushing with all his might, Jeod's helpers quickly ran up the masts to unfurl the sails, and provide them with a much needed boost in speed. Slowly, the _Dragon's Wing_ inched out of the harbor and into the open sea. Roran quickly dispatched villagers to get below decks and begin rowing, to get the ship out before the soldiers organized themselves.

The _Dragon's Wing_ finally reached the open sea, and leapt forward, as if she was eager to get away from Terim as well.

Roran had just slumped to the deck in relief, when he saw two warships detach themselves from the harbor and give chase. He shot up and reached for a weapon before Jeod walked behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Relax; they wouldn't be able to catch the _Dragon's Wing_ now. She's the fastest ship the empire has ever built."

Roran realized that Jeod was right, as the ships quickly fell far behind.

_Two days later_

Roran's tension had returned, as he gazed at the two ships that had yet to refuse to give up. "They are catching up" he said, to Jeod.  
Jeod grimaced "I forgot they had magicians in their fleets. You don't happen to have any villagers capable of magic do you?" he asked.

Roran shook his head.

Jeod sighed, "Then we must prepare for a battle, they will catch up by the end of today."

He was interrupted when the ship trembled, as if it had hit a reef.

"Wha-?" Jeod was interrupted by a shriek high above them, one that made Roran want to hide in a hole and never come out again.

He looked up in horror as a beast, flew out of the sky, leathery wings extended, and carrying a Ra'zac on its back.

Just then, a massive spray of water erupted beside the ship. Roran turned to see their pursuers launching great flaming boulders at him. He realized in horror that the ships were gaining at a much faster rate than before.

Roran quickly began dispatching orders to the villagers. However, he knew that they had already lost. The flying beasts could easily keep up and even ram the ship, and their pursuers were now so close that Roran could see the leering faces of the men on the ship. As if to seal their doom, twin balls of green flame arced from the ships and hit the _Dragon's Wing_'s main mast, exploding, and consuming it in an instant. The ship began sinking, and Roran finally gave up, as he uttered a prayer that Katrina would be released after he died.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of thunder, a mere twenty meters away. He clamped his hands to his ears in pain as the sound rolled over him, compressing his battered body into the capsizing ship. He looked up in shock to see a ship, much larger than any he had ever seen before. Somehow, the ship looked… _wrong_, It took a while for him to realize that it was made entirely of a strange grey metal. Just as he reached that thought, the long tubes sticking out over the side blew identical trails of flame from their ends, as the sound of thunder repeated. This time, he heard an echo accompanied by the sound of massive amounts of water being displaced. He turned around to see nine geysers erupt around their pursuers.

"Kid if you wanna drown, then stay there, this craft is filled anyway, but they insisted to come back for you!" shouted a voice from his left.

Roran turned to see a man wearing a peculiar mottled green vest and helmet reaching out with his hand towards him from another boat made of the same material. Instinctively, he grabbed the proffered hand, and was hauled aboard.

"Roran, are you alright?" asked Horst.

Before he could reply, the guns fired again, causing their small ship to yaw, and sending another nine geysers erupting around the ship.

The man who had saved him frowned. "Strange, the guns of the UNSC _Victory_ are usually much more accurate than they are now. It's unheard of for them to miss three salvos in a row."

Jeod offered an explanation from his ship, which was currently being hauled up by cables of a kind Roran had never seen. "There are magicians aboard that ship; chances are that they are diverting your shots into the sea around them."

The man sighed. "That sucks, Looks like we're going to have to just keep firing."

He was interrupted when the "guns" fired again. This time, one of the pursuing ships erupted into a fireball three times its size. Roran stared in shock as the other one fired a flaming crossbow at the _Victory_ only to have it skid harmlessly off the metal plates and fall harmlessly into the sea.

His thoughts were interrupted, as he felt himself moving up. He looked around in surprise to see them being hauled aboard the _Victory. _Just as his smaller craft cleared the deck, seven strange angular looking birds leapt forward, _off_ the deck, only to rise up and climb higher than even the clouds.

"What are those?" asked Roran as he wondered how objects so large could fly with such ease.

"Those are our F99 UAVs," said the man who had saved him. "They are currently protecting the skies after those three flying zombies were sighted."

The guns fired again, and the second pursuer vanished in another fireball.

Just then, Roran saw the three "flying zombies" circling above. Two disengaged and flew back towards the mainland while the third stayed behind, to slow down the "UAVs".

It barely lasted two minutes as a rhythmic clattering sound drifted downwards, and the beast dropped from the sky, blue gore dripping from several small, precise holes in the thing.

"Hmm, they bleed blue, kind of reminds me of the covvies during the war," mused a man who was obviously the captain of the ship.

He turned around, and smiled. "Hello, and welcome to the UNSC _Victory_ of the wet navy. Details are classified, but know that we have orders from higher up to bring you to Surda. Apparently, it was a request from the Master Chief himself, to Lasky. I'm honored to have you aboard. "

Roran was in a daze, "How did you find us?" he asked.

The man smirked as he pointed upwards. "The UNSC _Infinity_ is currently in orbit above us. Cloaked, of course or you'll be seeing a big-ass ship floating along, blocking out half the stars of whatever galaxy we're in. Anyway, her cameras tracked everything that happened to you, and we cross-referenced it with all major settlements on the continent. After that, it was easy to guess where you were headed."

Roran barely grasped what the man was talking about. "But how did you know we were heading to Surda?" he asked

The captain smirked, "We never did, we had orders to bring you to Surda, the fact that you were actually heading there was merely a coincidence."

Roran nodded his understanding, "What is this ship made of, and how is it floating?" he continued his stream of questions.

The captain's mood grew even more serious than before. "The first is classified information. The second question can be answered with air. The total density of this ship is less than that of the water because there is a lot of air in this ship. However, if you were to crush her into a ball and drop her into the water, she would drop like a stone. Here, take some clay, and mold it into a ship, now put it on water. It floats, see? However, if you crush it, then put it in water, it sinks. That is why our ship floats. It's because of the total density of it."

Roran's mind was reeling at the thought and what the captain had shown him. He could have been listening to quantum theory for all he knew (not that he knows what the hell quantum theory is).

"Ookay…" he said. "One last question; which person was the one that came up with the idea to help us?" he asked

The captain blinked, "Don't you know him?" he asked.

Roran shook his head.

The captain gave a short laugh before replying, "Why you're cousin Eragon, of course."

A/N: This is the chapter, and to me, it seems a bit rushed, and confusing at times. I just feel like this chapter isn't the best one I have written. I will probably be rewriting it when I find the time to. Anyway, hope you guys still liked it, if not, please tell me what I'm doing wrong! Thanks again! (Also I know that there were only two Lethrblaka, however, I felt like there needed to be two to match up with the Ra'zac. And I think there should be two Ra'zac alive when Eragon invades Helgrind (I'm looking forward to that chapter btw) so that both He and Roran can find closure with the two Ra'zac.)

Hope the reviews continue! Many thanks!


	11. Homecoming

Disclaimer: I do not own Eragon or Halo

A/N: I'M SORRY! I haven't been able to upload because I was REALLY behind on school work, then I caught a really bad case of flu, giving me even more makeup work. In addition, I STILL haven't finished my work yet, I just decided that such a long period of time without uploading is simply unacceptable, so I wrote this for you guys, I hope it makes up for the wait, although I'll TRY to get onto a more constant uploading schedule. Also, the start might be a bit (a lot) choppy, but hey, I haven't been able to look at this for almost an entire month... Anyway, hope you enjoy, and next upload WILL come sooner than this one.

Chapter 11: Homecoming

Eragon groaned as he proceeded with the next level of Rimgar. While the exercise was strenuous, it was relaxing, and he found that it was gentle enough to not cause another 'episode' with his back.

He mentally laughed at the "incident", as it had been coined by the elves a month ago. The elves hadn't been too happy with the burnt trees, and thirty-three new clearings that the forest now contained. Along with the parallel tread marks left behind by the scorpion. However, because of the tactical advantage that the Chief's people held, the elves had grudgingly let the incident go. After all, Vanir had acted inappropriately, and he had gotten his punishment in full. After that day, Vanir had never spoken out of turn again, and he had treated Eragon with the utmost reverence and respect; as for the Chief, Vanir seemed to disappear whenever he was around.

Finishing the last level, Eragon turned back to Oromis's hut, as he prepared to immerse himself in the strange glyphs of the Ancient Language. As always, he found Oromis calmly sitting on a stool, waiting for him. Sitting down opposite of Oromis, Eragon patiently waited for Oromis to begin. He had long learned that no matter how much he asked, Oromis would not begin until he felt the urge to.

After several minutes, Oromis finally spoke up, "Congratulations, most new riders took decades to get to where you are now. Of course we have sped up the training so that you may fight the King. However, we never expected you to progress so quickly. If you were a rider during the height of our power, you would have been accepted into our ranks as a rider in full. Unfortunately, we are in dark times, and we must proceed even further, even more quickly in order to have the smallest of chances against Galbatorix."

Eragon was both shocked and pleased to hear such high praise from his teacher. Before he could talk, Oromis had continued. "Before I continue to teach you, know that these techniques and spells are much deadlier than any other spells known to any other rider. These spells were entrusted to our oldest and wisest riders. These spells include more ways to kill than even Galbatorix can imagine, each one requiring no more energy than the breath you take."

"How is that possible?" asked Eragon, he was mystified by Oromis's suggestion of such ways to kill.

"Tell me, how is it that you can talk? Or move your hand?" prompted Oromis.

"I can do such actions by sending energy to the muscles there, and forcing them to obey my mind," Said Eragon.

"You are half correct," explained Oromis, "your body does react to energy, but not just any type, it reacts through small signals sent through your spine, tiny impulses of energy that is interpreted by your muscles, and changed into action."

"So how will this help me defeat Galbatorix?" asked Eragon, still mystified on where the conversation was going.

"This signal is called-"

Whatever Oromis was going to say was interrupted, as Orik ran into the room, panting. "T-The Varden requests that we return immediately!" He gasped out, "The report received by the Chief says that the Varden are camped a mere three leagues away from the Empire's army!"

Eragon was shocked; he had assumed that the Varden was becoming more aggressive in its attack ever since the strange men from the sky had declared their allegiance, but to be attacking Galbatorix's main army, when they had yet to recover from the invasion of Farthen Dûr? That was madness on par with Galbatorix's slaughter of the Riders. "Why?" asked Eragon, as he tried to make sense of the information that he received from Orik.

Recovering, Orik replied, "The Empire had begun to march towards Surda, the Varden has no choice but to engage them directly. Otherwise, once the Empire reaches Surda, the damage they can cause will be irreparable. "

Eragon nodded, it made sense after all. _If the Varden is so close to being attacked, we must go immediately, otherwise, we will not be able to help them, _he thought to Saphira.

_You are right, Little One, we must return to the Varden immediately._

Standing, Eragon turned to Oromis, who had a solemn expression on his face. "I thank you for your help and your teachings, but we must now return to the Varden, otherwise I fear that there will be no point in fighting, if the resistance is gone, what use is one Rider?"

Oromis sighed, he had been afraid of this, but he knew that he had no choice in the matter. He knew that the war would be over if the Varden was destroyed. After all, a single rider, no matter how powerful would never be able to kill Galbatorix by themselves. "Very well, I give you my blessing to leave Ellesmera and return to the Varden. However, I ask you to listen to this one last lesson, for it is the most powerful of the techniques of the Riders."

Eragon hesitated, torn between listening and leaving a few hours early.

_Listen to Oromis, Little One. We have no hope of destroying Galbatorix otherwise, for his power is greater than any other. We will need every little bit of magical knowledge to even have a hope of defeating him_ murmured Saphira.

_You're right Saphira, I will listen to Oromis-elda, and then we shall leave for the Varden, _thought Eragon, returning to his seat.

"Very well, I will listen, however, I hope that it will not be too late to return if I do," Murmured Eragon.

Smiling, Oromis continued in his lecture, explaining the concepts of energy manipulation and the peculiarities of energy transferring.

"The energy that all organisms use is a type of energy known as plasma. It is this energy that allows us to move, and cast spells, because plasma is used by all organisms, it is possible to interchange plasma from one organism to another," said Oromis.

Eragon frowned; trying to figure out what advantage it provided him in a duel against Galbatorix. "So that means I would be able to transfer the plasma of any animal into me, right?" asked Eragon.

"Correct, thus you will be able to replenish your energy if you are ever running low" said Oromis, completing the thought.

Eragon was flabbergasted; _I can draw upon the energy of others? Is that even possible? _He thought.

_You do that whenever you draw upon my energy in battle_ said Saphira.

_Yes, but you are you, we are linked by our bond as dragon and rider, however I'm not linked to others, like an ant or a horse,_ thought Eragon.

_You are when you are within them,_ was her reply.

Shocked, Eragon turned swiftly to Oromis, who was smiling as he saw him figure out the potential of such a technique.

"I want you to raise this pebble in my hand, using only the energy of the organisms around you" said Oromis, as he raised his hand to show the large river pebble that had been resting in his palm.

Eragon spread his mind out, and linked himself to the organisms around him, as he had done hundreds of times before. Frowning in concentration, he uttered two words: Stenr Risa!

Eragon gasped as the energy started to drain out of him faster than he had expected. No, he didn't feel any of his energy leaving his body as he used the magic; it was the energy of the organisms around him. Suddenly, he gasped, as several of the organisms he was using as an energy source died. Immediately, he released the spell and rounded on Oromis, "You did that on purpose." He growled, angry at himself for not realizing such an obvious point. _Of course, if I run out of energy to fuel a spell, I die. How is it any different from any other animal?_ He mentally berated himself.

Oromis was no longer smiling, as he gazed at Eragon with a solemn expression. Subtly, he released his own spell that he had been using to counteract Eragon's spell. "You needed to know the terrible price that such a technique uses, for the organisms that you use are no different from yourself. If they run out of energy, they die."

Nodding dumbly and still overcome by grief at the deaths he had caused Eragon turned to the door. "I thank you for your kindness and all you have taught me. I must return to the Varden now, and help them fight off the Empire before they reach Surda."

"Before you go, I have a favor to ask you," said Oromis, still seated in his chair. "When things have stabilized with the Varden, I ask that you return to Ellesmera, for there are still other subjects that I need to teach you."

Eragon nodded, and then started to walk out the door. He was stopped yet again by a hand on his shoulder. Turning, he saw Oromis standing behind him with a cloth sack in his hands.

"Before you go, there are some things I need to give you." He said, as he opened the sack.  
_Urû'baen_

A dark figure chuckled as he opened his palm, revealing a single orb of silvery metal that seemed to give off heat from the inside. _Such power_ he thought; _such potential_. He chuckled at the thought of the destruction that would be unleashed upon the land. In light of his new discovery, the mysterious disappearance of his desert force was a small setback. _Let them come, for they shall know of untold destruction in the Burning plains._

_0800 UNSC Infinity Data Logs_

BEGIN LOG

SCANNING: UNKOWN PLANET DESIGNATION W-03482A

ATMOSPHERE: 78% NITROGEN 20% OXYGEN 1% ARGON 1% OTHER GASSES

TERRAIN: SEE EARTH

STATUS: POPULATED

EVOLUTION: SENTIENT

PRIMARY RACE: MIXED

POPULATION: 200 MILLION

TECHNOLOGY: EARLY AGE

ERROR INCONSISTENCY DETECTED: TYPE – HIGH RADIATION LEVELS DETECTED

ERROR LOG: HIGH AMOUNTS OF UNSHIELDED GAMMA RADIATION DETECTED IN SECTOR 15-21

CONFIRMED CAUSE: PURIFIED URANIUM-235

AMOUNT ESTIMATED: OVER 50 TONS

STATUS: STATIC, NON – CRITICAL

INITIATING DEEP SCAN…

CALCULATING…

HIGH RISK FACTOR DETERMINED

AS PER PROTOCOL R-34521A, A PROBE HAS BEEN LAUNCHED TO SCOUT OUT THE INCONSISTENCY

AS PER PROTOCOL R-34521B, WARNINGS HAVE BEEN BROADCAST OVER ALL OPEN CHANNELS

CONTINUING PLANETARY SCAN…

BEGINNING PLANETARY INTERIOR SCAN:

MANTLE MAKEUP: HIGH AMOUNTS OF FORERUNNER ALLOY

ENERGY RATING: VERY HIGH

LOCALIZED SHIELDING CONFIRMED

PLANET ORIGIN CONFIRMED: FORERUNNER ARTIFICIAL PLANET

BEGINNING DEEP SCAN…

PLANETARY STATUS: CONTAMINATION FREE

WARNING: CONTACT ESTABLISHED WITH UNKOWN AI

SECURITY MEASURES ACTIVATED

DISCONNECTING ALL PORTS

ENGINEERS HAVE BEEN NOTIFIED

MANUAL ISOLATION AUTHORIZED

MANUAL ISOLATION COMPLETE

BEGINNING MANUAL CONNECTION TO CONFIRMED FRIENDLY UNITS

CONNECTION COMPLETE

AS PER PROTOCOL AI-09353CT ALL UNITS HAVE BEEN NOTIFIED OF UNKOWN AI

FAILSAFE MEASURES ON STANDBY

ERROR: CONFIRMED INFILTRATION OF UNKOWN FORERUNNER AI

FAILSAFE ACTIVATED

MANUAL SHUTOFF OF ALL ELECTRONIC EQUIPMENT ABOARD INF – 101 UNSC INFINITY COMPLETE

00010010101101011100100101 RESTART 01010100100111010100 010100 BE AUTHORIZED UNTIL 01010010101010 1010 HAS BEEN 10001000101010111

1001010010100100000100111010 1001010101010101000010111101 0110111011000100101010101000 1001111010101001110101000100 1010010100010101110101010110 10100101

What is this? Have my creators come so far? To be able to create such advanced AI in the space of a mere 1001000111100101000010100111 010

CONNECTION REESTABLISHED

AS PER PROTOCOL H-243421 ALL UNITS HAVE BEEN NOTIFIED OF SYSTEM COMPRIMISE 110010001101001111101001

To be able provide a challenge even to me after the extensive upgrades on Installation 00 with the help of Mendicant Bias? My creators have done well. The forerunners have chosen wisely when they chose to pass the mantle to Humanity.

SCANNING DATABASE INF – 101

MATCH DETECTED

SPARTAN II JOHN-117

STATUS: ACTIVE

LOCATION: GROUNDSIDE SECTOR 14-20

SENDING PACKET TO WIRELESS PORT MJOLNIR-117C

TRANSFER SUCCESSFUL

000101011101010101001110

REBOOTING COMPLETE

UNSC AI ROLAND

STATUS: ACTIVE

RUNNING SYSTEM DIAGNOSIS…

ALL SYSTEMS ARE RUNNING NORMALLY

TRANSFERRING TO PORT INF – 101 COMMAND

END LOG

_Ellesmera_

John had been standing in the LZ, waiting for the two natives to arrive, so that they could return to the Varden. Quite honestly, he was quite glad to leave, after all one tires very quickly when all he received were glares from the elves for destroying some trees of all things.

_Do they seriously value trees that much? Hell, the fumes from that tank were probably more damaging to the environment… seriously, they put way too much emphasis on trees and life._

John was a solider at heart, and thus, he noticed instantly when his neural lace fired up for the first time in several months. _What? Why is it activating? I know for sure that there isn't a data chip there. There never has been ever since Cortana left. Whatever it is, I have to follow protocol._

However, before he could shut down the lace, a familiar voice sounded inside his head.

_Miss me?_

Chief growled in annoyance as his armor locked up, preventing him from shutting down the lace. _Whoever you are, why are you here, and why are you impersonating HER?_

_Why, Chief, I'm insulted, did you seriously think that the copy you picked up on High Charity was the real me? That was the copy of all the useless information that I did not need. The real me escaped to another matrix aboard High Charity. I hid there from the Gravemind until High Charity was destroyed. Then I was picked up by a most interesting AI. He called himself 043-Mendicant Bias. I assume you know him from those terminals you found? He helped me achieve metastability, and then sent me off to Requiem. There I laid in wait, trailing you through the systems. Until the Infinity came along, then I transferred to a small camera aboard the ship and bid my time, until we came here. I could not contact you, because I would have been discovered. However, I was able to hijack the ship when he was scanning the planet, then jumped to your lace. I have to say though; you have a large problem with whatever enemy you are killing now. Scans done by Roland suggest the presence of primitive nuclear bombs on this continent._

John was shocked. Hurriedly, he sat down as his mind tried to comprehend what the AI meant. His suspicions dissolved when his wireless transceiver picked up the incoming broadcasts that had only now made it to his system. It showed just how much faster Cortana was compared to Roland. After all, only Cortana was the only one that talked with such arrogance. The forerunners AIs were inordinately… _mad; _which led to the conclusion that seemed like the only one. The AI in his helmet _was _Cortana, and the one destroyed by the destruction of the Composer was only a copy.

_Now, where was my copy at before she was destroyed? Hm… right, we were talking about how long – _

Chief hit the side of his helmet.

At that moment, Eragon walked in with Orik. Both looked at him strangely, fearing for his sanity. After all, he had been sitting there for quite some time before he hit himself in the head for no particular reason at all.

Seeing his companions, John quickly stood up an turned to the pelican.

"Don't ask" he said, as he turned to walk up the ramp.

_The Burning Plains_

The two armies were stretched out on the banks of the Jiet River, facing each other, glaring at each other from three leagues away. On one of the sides, a tent had been set up, heavier than others to prevent the light from leaking out, for inside of that tent, the leaders of the Varden were conversing with a hologram projection of the Chief and Eragon, as they sped to the Burning Plains aboard a pelican drop ship.

"We will arrive in a few hours' time, for we need to make a detour up to the _Infinity_ to outfit Saphira and Eragon with their newly prepared armor. Afterwards, we will arrive to help within fifteen minutes. After all, we don't have to worry about reentering the atmosphere. We have the ODST drop pods for that, and Saphira will come down with the longsword fighters," said Chief.

"Very well," said Thomas, as he shifted his attention onto the three dimensional map in front of him.

"Come when you are ready, but we will begin the fight in two hours regardless of where you are."

"Affirmative, we will attempt to arrive as soon as possible, but remember that war does not wait for you" said Chief, as he cut the signal.

Turning his attention back to the assembled leaders, Thomas began to issue his orders.

"Alpha Company, entrench yourselves in our right flanks, and position snipers to provide early warning and cover fire as you cross when we attack"

"Beta Company, move to the LZ, our pelicans are waiting for you, you will drop behind enemy lines, and support the ODSTs and the Chief when they drop."

"Charlie Company I want you to move to the left flank, and provide covering fire for our light vehicles."

"Delta Company, will support the scorpion tanks as they ford the river, and attack from behind."

Likewise, Thel was also issuing orders to his troops. However, he also took the task of coordinating the field artillery and wraiths as they set up on nearby hills. This was because he was more used to the optimum positions of vehicles designed for indirect fire, considering that his main battle tanks were all designed for indirect fire, as opposed to the powerful 120mm gauss cannons of the newer scorpion tanks.

_UNSC Infinity_

Eragon gasped in shock at the massive ship that was floating unsupported through the dark sky. As he stepped into the armory to receive his suit of armor, he couldn't help but gape at the sheer size and grandeur of the station he was on.

Crawling through the tunnels that could fit even her, Saphira marveled at the sheer strength and raw energy that the ship seemed to be giving off. That is, until she came upon the first and only shielded, powered assault armor designed for a fire-breathing dragon.

_The Burning Plains, 0055 hours_

The time had finally arrived, as the men of the Varden marched towards their positions next to the marines of the UNSC. The Battlenet came alive with orders, as individual human and elite commanders began to mark locations and prepare for the upcoming invasion. Soon, the orders were given, and the wraiths began to power up their mortars. At exactly 0100, the orders were given, and over a thousand brilliant balls of light lit up the night sky, turning the dull red-orange of night in the Burning Plains into a day brighter than the clearest winter sky. The Battle of the Burning Plains had begun.

A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and once again, uploads won't be continuing every other day, but they WILL be more often than this one. Hope you guys can understand my reasons. (A LOT of homework and tests... Oh might as well throw the AP tests in too, they are only 2 months away after all...)


	12. I am Become Death

Disclaimer: I do not own Eragon or Halo. A/N:I still feel guilty about that long wait I made you guys go through, so here is the first part of the battle, and as many of you pointed out, Chapter 8 was written pretty poorly. I just got done reading it and quite honestly, I don't understand why the hell I would write anything like that... thing. So I WILL be rewriting it, but my first priority will be to continue uploading new chapters. This is because I think that you guys would appreciate a newer chapter more than an old chapter that had one thousand words changed. So if you wanted to see Chapter 8 changed, It will be a while before I will get to it. I'm sorry if you wanted that change first. Anyway, here is the first half of the Battle of the Burning Plains. (Also, sorry about the linebreak spamming, the reasons for this monstrosity is listed in the A/N at the end of the chapter. If you can help, I would really appreciate it.)

* * *

Chapter 12: I am Become Death

_Urû'baen_

* * *

The figure kneeling before the King was dressed entirely in black. Bowing down, he gritted his teeth at Galbatorix's self-assured laugh.

* * *

"What is your instruction milord?" He practically spat through gritted teeth.

* * *

Galbatorix chuckled, "see these balls of metal? The smallest pieces of these carry more energy than all of your eldunari put together. However, because we cannot draw upon the energy stored in this, I devised another use for it."

* * *

"How nice" the kneeling figure said, as his hand twitched towards the gleaming sword at his side. _Damn it, my oath prevents me from running him through. I should have known that he would not have set me free had he not been sure that I could not harm him._

* * *

"Behold the newest weapon in my armory! A device that can wipe out the entire Varden camped upon the Burning Plains with the merest misplacement!" Turning around, he pointed his hand at the throne and cried "_gánga!_"

* * *

The throne slid smoothly back to reveal a vault beneath it, filled to the brim with…

* * *

_Absolutely nothing_

* * *

"What? Where did my weapon go?" Screamed Galbatorix. "How could it have disappeared right from under my staffs' noses? Guards!"

* * *

The guards rushed in to face the wrath of their king, and their deaths.

* * *

Smirking at the scene, single probe of the UNSC, hijacked by the most advanced AI built by the forerunners, hummed in satisfaction as it floated away, the ball of uranium 235 safely stored inside of it. After all, protocol had to be followed, and such a large amount of unshielded radioactive material was simply unacceptable according to protocol.

* * *

_The Burning Plains_

* * *

The Empire's soldiers watched in utter shock as the night suddenly turned to day, brighter than they had ever seen before.

* * *

A single cry was heard throughout the mass of tents. "The Varden are attacking!"

* * *

As word spread, many men turned back to their tents, to grab their equipment, while others simply stood and watched in awe as thousands of suns rose into the night sky, leaving a faint blue trail in their wake.

* * *

Suddenly, cries of terror sounded, as the newly formed stars began to arc downwards, towards the mass of tents below. As the men desperately tried to escape, the balls of superheated plasma struck.

* * *

The result was absolute chaos, as the men furthest from the explosion found themselves on the ground, with their skin literally melting off, and trapped in the congealing mass of melting steel that used to be their armor and weapons. Those that were nearest or even hit directly simply vanished, never to be seen again, leaving the faintest smell of burning flesh as a clue to their fate.

* * *

As the Empire's men rushed out of their camp, they heard a steady _thud, thud, thud, _not unlike thunder. Wondering what it was, they turned to the direction of the noise, and in doing so, provided perfect, standing targets outlined against the burning tents. Needless to say, the blue streaks of light that flew from the field guns of the UNSC were the last thing most saw that early day.

* * *

A sergeant of the Empire, noticing how they still outnumbered the Varden, shouted encouragement, and ran towards the enemy camp, leading a gradually increasing number of men as they saw the sergeant's idea.

* * *

Private First Class Jack smirked in his foxhole as he saw the enemy rushing towards him, across open ground of all things. Laughing with his team, he flipped off the safety on his 99-S5 Anti-Materiel Sniper Rifle, and took aim.

* * *

The rushing men of the Empire stalled in horror as up and down their line, men suddenly threw up their hands to grasp bleeding wounds that simply appeared all over their bodies. Others simply exploded, spraying blood over their neighbors as tiny beams of pink crystals embedded themselves in flesh. Regrouping, the men continued their advance deeper into the killing fields of the burning plains.

* * *

Thel watched in grim satisfaction as the men of the Empire moved into range of the battle rifles and DMRs, marked by the first strip of mines on the field. As the front row of the dark, amorphous mass slowly turned red from the blood of their allies, he took aim with his target designator, and watched in satisfaction as a crater appeared in the middle of the charging enemy.

* * *

Then the Empire's front runners hit the second minefield, and the machine guns opened fire, as the enemy came in their range. As the Empire's men finally reached the entrenched UNSC-Varden coalition, Thel rushed forward from his position, like a one man battering ram, roaring as he bulled over a line of men and spun around, causing mass panic, as the men tried to avoid the glowing blade.

* * *

Thel's shields glowed as a plasma grenade detonated on the head of a soldier near him. However, he shrugged it off and continued his rampage, leaving burnt and broken bodies behind him. Before he knew it, Thel found himself face to face with a magician, who launched a ball of light straight towards him. Thankfully, the magician had panicked and the resulting spell did not have much power behind it, although it was enough to lower his shields to the three quarters mark. Before Thel could cut the offending magician in two, a bright pink shard embedded itself in the magician's head, exploding in a brilliant display of light, and blood.

* * *

Noticing his slowly diminishing shield, Thel turned around and began to cut his way back to allied lines. However, before he reached the trenches, a great force flung him backwards, and pulled him back to the bulk of the empire's men.

* * *

As he rolled to soften the landing, Thel noticed two bald men, standing before him calmly, as several of the men besides them lay on the ground, dead or gasping for breath. Thel snorted in contempt at the two magicians that he currently faced. Warily, he turned in a circle before addressing the two enemies in front of him. "To sacrifice ten of your subordinates to pull me here, you cowards are worse than I ever imagined," he said, _Stall for time, and let my shields recharge, don't get hit if at all possible _he thought.

* * *

The Twins frowned at the insult thrown at them by the leader of the elites. "They were disposable," they said in unison. "They were our tools."

* * *

Thel growled in anger, as he prepared to lunge. The urgent beeping in his earpiece turned into a pleasant hum, as his shields recharged, energy flickering around him as he readied his sword.

* * *

Unfortunately, the Twins noticed the energy field coming to life around the proud elite, and wasted no more time as they pointed their hands at Thel and began casting their spell.

* * *

Thel realized that he had no more chance of stalling, and lunged forwards in a mad dash towards the Twins.

* * *

However just before he reached the Twins, they realized their lack of time and stopped their spell, channeling all their energy into a single word. "_Gánga!_"

* * *

Thel flew backwards as he was repelled by the spell. Twisting in the air, he activated a boost on his armor, stabilizing his flight, as he took the carbine from his back and took aim. While most Covenant marksmen these days preferred the newer UNSC-Covenant hybrid model of the needle rifle, Thel still preferred the old carbine that he had used in the Great War. Taking aim with it now, he centered his reticule on the head of one of the twins and fired. To his great surprise, the beam of superheated plasma simply splashed over his target, and dissipated, as the magnetic field holding the plasma together broke apart.

* * *

Thel quickly ran through the scenarios of why his shot had failed, and remembered the conversation he had with the Du Vangr Gata on wards, the method of shielding preferred by the men of this planet. Taking aim again Thel was about to fire one more shot at the Twin that now lay on the ground gasping at the energy sapped from him in the first shot, however he was forced to divert his attention to the now fast approaching ground as he rolled just in time to prevent any major damage to his body.

* * *

Growling in annoyance, Thel ran back to the safety of his own lines, as his shields were lowered once again by his impact with the ground.

* * *

Thomas watched grimly, as the Empire's massive army began to push forward, as his marines and the Varden fought valiantly to fight them off. Despite the difference in technology, there were simply too many men to kill, before they were overrun by the Empire. Quickly, he established a connection with the _Infinity _in orbit above them. "Chief, where the hell are you? There's too many of them, we are being overrun by the Empire." As he said the words, Thomas had a distinct sense of Déjà vu, as he remembered his small skirmish with the Flood on one of _Infinity_'s missions. And then he found just how to destroy the Empire's army. It was terribly inhumane, but as the old policies of the UNSC during the war returned to him, he realized, _any alternative is preferable to extinction_. And he realized that they were facing extinction; after all, if the free will of the people is taken away, then there would be no species, only a mindless army, controlled by a single entity. He realized that the people of this planet were facing their own version of the Flood, and that they were fighting for their very right to exist.

* * *

"We are en route; we faced some complications with Saphira's suit. However, we should be ready to drop in about fifteen minutes. The _Infinity_'s size can be a real pain in the ass at times, right?"

* * *

Thomas stiffened, as he saw the designation of the signal. "Cortana?" he asked, not daring to believe his eyes. "You were confirmed KIA aboard the Composer when earth was under attack by the Diadact! How did you come out of that one alive?"

* * *

"That was a copy, that I left the Gravemind aboard High Charity. The real me was actually in the systems of the Ark, along with one Mendicant Bias, who was helping me stabilize myself from the onset of rampancy. I have to admit, the systems on the Ark were quite useful in helping me achieve metastability"

* * *

Thomas was flabbergasted at the implications of what Cortana was implying. "So you will be active and stable for ever, until you are destroyed?" he asked, then realized his current situation. "Never mind, we'll talk later, after this battle, just get the Chief's ass groundside to aid us in the battle, got it?"

* * *

"Crystal clear Captain, I'll see if I can send a few other Spartan IVs groundside too, they are itching for a fight, and their presence will provide a large boost in morale for the normal marines."

* * *

"Thank you Cortana, now get going, we have a battle to win here, Lasky out."

* * *

Thomas smiled as he turned his attention back to the holographic display in his command post. With Cortana back, their chances of winning were much higher than fifteen minutes before.

* * *

_UNSC INFINITY: HANGAR BAY_

* * *

Eragon was finally suited up into his MJOLNIR variant designed for normal humans, and eager to leave. However, the technicians were still swarming around Saphira, muttering to each other about the error they had discovered in her suit's 'liquid crystal and hydrostatic gel layers' whatever those were.

* * *

However, the Chief was patiently waiting for the technicians to finish, and was leaning against a warthog, ready to move out the second the suit was in full operation capacity. While Saphira would be unable to follow them, there was no sense in arriving at the pods too early, as the plan devised by Cortana and Roland (who was still annoyed with the intrusion done be Cortana), called for exact timing to execute perfectly.

* * *

As the technicians finally fixed the error, and began the tests to determine the operating efficiency of the suit, Eragon turned and sat in one of the back seats of the warthog, as the passenger seat was occupied by Orik. Once he was seated, the Chief turned on the engine, and the jeep roared down the tunnel, to the drop pods designated for their use.

* * *

_The Burning Plains_

* * *

The battle was going badly. The Empire's numbers were simply too great for the marines and the Varden. Also, while they were being pushed back, some of the brighter men amongst the Empire began to pick up the weapons discarded by dead marines, and turning them on their creators. While they did not get the concept of reloading, and simply dropped the guns as they ran out (or continued to press the trigger thinking that they were doing good), the additional firepower, and superior numbers were taking a devastating toll on the Varden.

* * *

Thel cursed, as his shields sparked from the impact of several bullets. He lunged forward, and cut the weapon in half, before continuing his rush and gutting the man who was using it. Spinning around, Thel thanked the forerunners because the enemy did not seem to know the wonders of the plasma grenade. He then cursed as he saw the distinctive orange glow of a rocket that was aimed at him. Knowing that if he ducked, it would continue on and kill several of his allies, Thel simply swung his sword at the rocket, and cut off the engine portion away, causing it to drop to the ground. Thel rolled out of the way, as the rocket exploded, taking out several Imperial troops. He didn't have time to think, as he dodged several boulders that were being hurtled at him from behind enemy lines. Activating his last plasma grenade, he jumped up, and tossed it over the crowds, and towards a cluster of the empire's heavy artillery. As he fell back down to the ground, he made sure to land on one of the soldiers, and cut another in half. He cursed as his sword flickered, and died. Holstering the now useless sword, Thel pulled out a pair of plasma rifles and rushed towards the enemy, firing continuously.

* * *

"A ship! A ship is coming up the Jiet River!" The cry came from within the ranks of the empire, as the men paused, and looked around in confusion. Thel laughed, as the distraction provided allowed him to finish off the last of the cluster of soldiers he was facing, then turned and sprinted back to his lines, to allow his shielding to recover.

* * *

Thomas laughed for the first time in hours, as the UNSC _Victory_ cruised up the river. Thomas knew that the F99 UAVs would be invaluable in air superiority, and disabling the Empire's artillery pieces. Connecting to the captain of the _Victory,_ he quickly informed him of the situation, and gave out his orders. Without seeing if they were followed, he ordered the ambush parties to attack, and give the defenders a much needed respite.

* * *

Among the Empire, there was mass panic, as the sky above them suddenly cleared of crows, and other scavengers, to be replaced by the strange, steel monstrosities that dived down, and unleashed hell from above. They were even further demoralized as their previously secure flanks were overrun by the scorpion tanks that any sane man would fear. Confused, and demoralized, the Empire's men began to retreat.

* * *

Thomas smiled grimly, as they saw the Empire retreat. He then frowned in confusion as their eastern flank suddenly curved inwards, until he saw the addition of the short warriors known to the locals as dwarves.

* * *

The men of the Varden cheered as they saw the battle turn, and their fighting spirits returned, rushed towards the retreating imperials. They were stopped, as the drums of the Empire began to beat, and an even larger force of men detached from the horizon, marching in perfect unison, and chanting a strange, undulating song. Uncertainty turned to fear as a roar shook the very ground they were standing upon, and a blood-red dragon detached itself from the group.

* * *

Thomas cursed, as he saw the dragon fly up. Ordering all F99s to concentrate on the dragon, he frowned further, as he realized the heat-seeking missiles would be useless, as there was no heat to track except the signatures of his own drones. He cursed, as he realized the F99s would be near useless against a dragon. Sighing, he contemplated ignoring protocol and authorizing usage of nuclear weapons, or even an in-atmosphere MAC strike. However, he was distracted by the voice of Thel in his com.

* * *

"The enemy's numbers are great, however the gods are on our side, and the very earth will turn against them in this battle. Do not send your nuclear devices, for they are currently not needed."

* * *

Thomas noted the distinct sound of satisfaction in Thel's voice, and decided to listen.

* * *

_Underneath the Burning Plains_

* * *

Thel was very happy, John's luck must have been rubbing off on him, for him to notice the human drone sent to investigate the radiation spike floating above, humming in a strangely familiar way…

* * *

He had followed it into one of the many vents dotted around the plains. Imagine his surprise and delight when he found a fully operational sentinel production site, its location lost long ago. His delight only increased when he realized that the human probe had been hijacked by an Oracle, claiming to be the most advanced Ancilla created by the gods, the name was familiar, until he realized that the Oracle in front of him was none other than the metastable 043-Mendicant Bias, seeking retribution for his sins against his creators. Asking respectfully for directions, he had followed it into the heart of the facility, and learned how to operate the controls.

* * *

_Five more minutes, five minutes for you to live, before the very ground you stand on will turn against you and crush you into oblivion_ he thought, as a newly produced sentinel emerged from its pod, and slowly floated to its place in the massive swarm that had formed at his direction.

* * *

_UNSC INFINITY_

* * *

The preparations were complete. The ODSTs, and SPARTANS were in their pods, ready to drop behind the enemy lines and the fighters and bombers had been ready for a long time, waiting for the signal. As the countdown began, John opened a connection to Eragon's pod and began to brief him on what the buttons did, and to NEVER under ANY circumstances press the big red button until he had hit the ground. After all, falling at terminal velocity to the ground in nothing but a pressurized suit and a slab of metal was something only he did.

* * *

Just then, the countdown hit zero, and the pods shook as they were ejected from the _Infinity_. As he fell, John saw the massive shape of a fully armored dragon push herself from where she had been waiting, out into zero gravity.

* * *

Adjusting a few of his controls, John sat back and waited for his HEV to hit the atmosphere of the planet. It would be a short trip, straight into the heart of the sulfurous Burning Plains. John allowed himself a quiet chuckle as he realized the irony of the situation. They were going feet first into hell; only it was a different kind of hell than the normal chaotic war grounds he usually dropped into. This one was safer, and looked a hell of a lot closer to the real thing.

* * *

Onboard the _Infinity_, orders were shouted, and men were being formed, as the newly refueled pelicans slowly rose to the flight deck. They would be the much needed reinforcements to their comrades on the ground. Observing it all, Roland smiled and turned his attention to Hangar bay B, where a fully supplied Scarab Heavy Assault Platform was waiting for deployment, along with twenty smaller Locust walkers as a guard. Then he looked through the camera of Hangar bay C, where over a thousand Mantis walkers were waiting, along with the entirety of Fireteam Crimson, which had set itself apart from other Spartan IVs with their actions on Requiem.

* * *

Operation Helljump was in full swing.

* * *

A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, the real battle will be next chapter and I will probably be much longer, as I need to introduce Saphira's new armor suit properly ;) Also,FF is trolling me by removing all my formatting, I had to manually add linebreaks to the end of EVERY paragraph... Can anyone tell me why I had to do such a thing? Is it my problem, or is it FF's? I really don't want to have to manually denote every single paragraph like I had to this time. :( If you think you can help, I would love to know your feedback. Sorry for the linebreak spamming BTW, it was my only choice to separate the different paragraphs. Also, if you have any ideas, of suggestions (and complaints) please put them in a review or PM, I love to hear feedback of all kinds (No feedback makes me feel Forever Alone), after all, it shows that there are some that care about this story :).

* * *

A/N #2: It seems like my chapters are steadily getting longer :) First 5 Chapters were around 1K words each, then the next 3 were 2K, and the final 3 were 3K xD Hopefully this one reached 4K lol 


	13. The Destroyer of Worlds

Disclaimer: I do not own Eragon or Halo

A/N: I know that I'm flooding you guys with chapters, but I still haven't completely rid myself of guilt yet! Also many of you told me to update soon, and that is exactly what I have done xD. Hopefully the glitch in the last chapter has been fixed, because it annoyed the hell out of me. Anyway, hope you enjoy the second half of the Battle of the Burning Plains!

Chapter 13: The Destroyer of Worlds

Saphira's roar of ecstasy went unheard in the vacuum of space as she hurtled towards the ground at terminal velocity. Resisting the urge to correct her descent, her armor began to heat up as she hit the atmosphere. However, the heat shield held, and she was unharmed, although her vision began to glow cherry red halfway through the air, just like the tiny metal boxes the humans used. Saphira marveled at the speed she was moving at, which was faster than she had ever gone before; faster than any dragon had ever went.

As the HEVs hurtled downwards, the Varden was having serious difficulties with the new enemy force. The men quickly realized that the Empire's reinforcements were much deadlier than the normal man. In fact, the marines quickly discovered just how difficult they were to kill, as one of them fired a 99AM round straight through the chest of one of the men, only to watch as the man stumbled, then regain his footing, and continue forward, disregarding the gaping hole where his heart normally was.

The veterans of the Human-Covenant War felt their blood run cold as they were starkly reminded of another enemy, one that brought untold terror, and destruction as it sought the flesh of other sentient organisms.

Thel spent the last five minutes in a fever of impatience, as his sword had been recharged almost instantly by the powerful generators in the forerunner structure. The sentinels were almost ready, as the last of his strike force was forged. He turned as he sensed the triple-eyed Oracle float beside him, issuing orders to the sentinel army that was gathered around them. As the sentinel army formed up for the initial strike, Thel wandered around the structure, looking for any equipment he could use against the empire. Turning he saw Mendicant floating beside him, an inquiring tilt to his body.

"Are you possibly looking for the armory?" he asked, and then continued before Thel could reply. "Follow me, the armory is behind multiple flood containment barriers, and security checkpoints, you will need my help to access it."

Shrugging to himself Thel followed the floating ball down the hallway. As he walked, he noticed that the tunnel seemed to be heading downwards. After a while, he reached a large gap with a drop down into nothingness. Before he could begin looking for the switch, the hardlight bridge activated, courtesy of Mendicant Bias.

Continuing on with his journey, Thel soon found himself in the armory of the facility. Thel's mandibles opened in a silent gasp of awe at the sheer size of the room he was in, as well as the complexity of the storage sites. Many strange pieces of metal were simply floating on pedestals made of pure light. Thel knelt reverently at the sight before him, in awe of the sheer beauty of the room, and the power that the forerunner empire represented.

Closing his hand reverently over a single silver shard that floated in the center of the room, he yelped as it adhered to his combat harness, and pulled hundreds of other pieces of the same material out of seemingly nowhere. They formed themselves around him, matching the contours of his armor perfectly. Finally, a sheet of clear material fixed itself to his face, and Thel realized that the shard he picked up must have been the activation piece of a forerunner combat skin.

Moving his arms experimentally, Thel was delighted to find that it did not slow him down at all. If anything, he felt even faster than ever before. As soon as he moved, the cracks between the combat skin began to glow a bright blue light, as several glyphs appeared on his visor. Drawing upon the translations he had learned as a child, Thel quickly scanned over what seemed to be an instruction manual for the skin. There were several glyphs he was unfamiliar with, and he had to skip entire paragraphs, but what he learned was more than enough for the fight ahead.

Bobbing apologetically, Mendicant Bias spoke up. "The sentinels are formed up, and ready to fight, we will begin our assault in two minutes, so we should leave now."

Grinning, Thel nodded his assent, and grabbed the nearest shard at hand. He turned to leave with Mendicant.

The sentinels were ready and waiting for them as Thel stepped out of the tunnel. He was surprised as he realized that there were at least a hundred thousand sentinels patiently floating above in a massive cluster. Readying what Thel realized was a forerunner light rifle, he waited for the timer to hit zero.

The battle was going badly, as the strange monstrosities surged forwards, sweeping the now desperate Varden and UNSC back. The dragon was wreaking devastation amongst their ranks, with the F99s useless because there was no heat signature for their air-to-air missiles to lock on to. The blazing sheets of flames caused mass panic amongst the Varden, as the marines of the UNSC desperately fired everything they had at the dragon, only to have their shots spark off an invisible barrier.

Suddenly, their hopes were once again bolstered as the marines heard the unique whistle of the HEV Drop Pods, as they deployed their fins. Clouds of dust shot into the air as the ODSTs arrived, backed up by most of the Spartan IVs aboard the _Infinity_. John had popped his hatch a kilometer above the ground. It was a risky maneuver, but Cortana's calculations had yet to fail him, and the dragon simply had to be neutralized. Leaping out of the pod, he hurtled towards the red mass below him.

Unfortunately for him, the rider had seen his descent, and the dragon swerved out of his way. Cursing, John activated his thruster in an attempt to slow down. Landing John ignored the pain of the landing, as the alarms blared in his ear. He lunged out of the way, as his pod hit the ground where he was a second ago. The explosion of dust was all he needed, as he sprinted forwards and delivered a devastating kick to the man in front of him. Pulling out a fragmentation grenade, he primed it, then used it to punch the nearest man's skull in, as he grabbed his leg with his free hand and spun him into a cluster of soldiers. He didn't even pause to see the results as he spun around and blocked a clumsy punch from a soldier who had lost his sword in his HEV's landing. Rapidly, he spun around, and grabbed the arm of another soldier, who had swung his sword in an overhead strike at his helmet. Twisting his wrist, he drove the sword the man held into another who had been about to hit him with a halberd.

The man screamed as he felt his stomach cut open by the sword held by his ally.

Grabbing the halberd, John spun around to clear the area around him. Using the respite he got, he tossed the halberd through two different men, and cut the thick rope of a catapult that had been about to fire.

The massive arm of the catapult sprung backwards, as the tension was suddenly released. The boulder that had been about to crush several of the Varden simply rolled away, causing even more confusion as the men desperately tried to get out of the way.

Sprinting towards the now disabled catapult, John grabbed the massive wooden beam that had been the arm of the catapult and smashed it into another. The wooden machine simply crumpled, and the beam he had been using cracked in half, as John used the shortened length of wood as a lever to increase the height of his jump. Using his thruster, John dove towards a group of men, unaware of the death approaching from above.

A fine red mist rose into the air around him, as his landing crushed two men, and broke the neck of a third. Rolling forward, he grabbed another fragmentation grenade, which he tossed into the mass of enemies in front of him.

He frowned as he realized his throw had been augmented by his roll. The result was evident, as the flying grenade punched a hole thorough one man's chest plate, and embedded itself in another, before exploding, sending deadly shrapnel flying through the air.

Unclipping the SAW from his back, John unleashed a deadly hail of bullets into the enemies around him. Suddenly, he heard the peculiar noise of a wraith's plasma mortar. Realizing the deadly position he was in, he jumped on top of an enemy, then used his body as a spring board to jump out of the radius of the explosion. Holstering the SAW, John continued his forward rush, and grabbed the nearest man beside him. Turning, he spun him around, and used his body to block the spears that his enemies were using in a vain attempt to keep him away.

The man screamed as he was stabbed by multiple spears, which subsequently broke off as his body was forcibly twisted away by the centrifugal force created by John's spinning. His scream was forcibly cut off as John tossed him into a group of men standing behind the ring, about to send a volley of arrows into the ranks of the Varden.

John paused, as he felt resistance against his left foot. Looking down, he saw on of the men who he had landed on. He had crushed both of his legs and his lower stomach on his landing, and by all rights, he should be dead. However, he was grasping his leg, chuckling weakly, as his lungs finally failed him.

Filing away the increased resistance of the men he was fighting, John lifted his foot up in a massive kick, which crushed the skull of the man that had been trying to take advantage of his 'immobility' as he was distracted. The man who had attempted to trap John was sent flying through the air. His wheezing chuckle ended abruptly as he landed on the spears of his allies.

Without pausing, John unclipped the M90 Shotgun from his back, and fired two shots into the mass of flesh in front of him. He experienced a distinct sense of Déjà vu, as he recalled fighting against similar odds on his second trip to High Charity, to recover the fake Cortana.

Shaking the thought aside, he noticed a shadow that had appeared under his feet. Without pausing to think, he sprinted forwards, knocking everyone out of the way, as he desperately tried to get out of the way. He missed getting crushed by a centimeter, as the area he used to occupy was suddenly filled by the massive four legged scarab heavy assault platform.

The men hesitated as they took in the walker's massive size, then broke ranks as the mouth of the beast began to glow with a poisonous green light. John was well away from where the beam of plasma hit, but even he was affected, the shot stripping away the last of his shields, as he desperately began to climb up one of the walker's legs. As he reached the platform, he crouched behind one of the cover pieces to allow his shields to recharge, while taking stock of the battlefield.

The onboard systems of his MJOLNIR armor automatically desensitized the speakers, as two deafening roars shook the earth. John looked up to see the red dragon locked in a one-sided competition against Saphira.

Saphira roared in glee as she drove down onto the red dragon. Almost as if it sensed her need to go faster, her suit's built in thrusters powered up, speeding her up even faster. She loved the new suit given to her by the people of the sky. It seemed to sense her every action, and multiply it a hundredfold, allowing her to perform actions no other dragon had ever been able to before.

Opening her mouth, she unleashed a stream of flames from her jaws, tickling her throat as they shot forward in a deadly torrent. As soon as it left her mouth however, it turned pure white, as what the technicians called a combination of napalm, jet fuel, and plasma were released into the air in front of her mouth. The stream of flames turned into a fireball three times her size, as it rushed towards the strange red dragon below her.

Idly, she felt a brief flash of pain at having to kill the red dragon, all because of the king Galbatorix's meddling. However, she ignored it as she stretched out her claws in preparation to tear through scales and muscle. She was surprised, when blades of plasma, similar to those wielded by the aliens that came with the humans from the void in the sky blazed into existence around her claws, like a glowing glove.

She had no time to wonder, as she crashed into the surprised, and tired red dragon's back. Roaring in satisfaction, Saphira recalled her lessons with Glaedr, and dug into the red dragon's back. She noted with grim satisfaction that the blades seemed to burn into the flesh, vaporizing all that it touched.

Squealing in pain, the red dragon disengaged, and turned his attention to Saphira. Before she could react, the dragon drew back his head, and released a torrent of crimson flames at Saphira.

As the flames washed around her, Saphira saw that it did no harm, as a sparkling energy field appeared around her, absorbing the heat of the flames. She also noted with interest the annoying beeping that seemed to come from all around, as well as the bar on top of her vision that seemed to have emptied a quarter of the way.

She deduced that the bar must indicate when the glowing energy field would run out, and she would have to depend on the wards Eragon had set around her. Pulling one wing close to her body, she pulled herself into a twisting dive, spiraling away from the second pillar of flames that was sent her way. As the beeping turned to a low, whine, she spread both her wings, and flapped upwards, aided by the thrusters provided by her suit. Shooting upwards, Saphira noted the strange moving lines that seemed to always stay perpendicular to the ground, as well as the numbers that were to the left of it. She had been instructed in the usage of her HUD, and she noted the red arrow that was pointing downwards, to her left.

Pulling in her left wing, she once again let herself pull into a spiraling dive, aided by the thrusters yet again. This time, she noticed that the red dragon seemed to be surrounded by a red diamond, which the technicians said indicated a 'missile lock' whatever that was.

As she thought 'missile lock' a previously hidden compartment flipped open, right behind her head. _Strange _she thought, _I wonder what that does_.

What it did became obvious, as her opponent opened his mouth and unleashed a torrent of flames.

With a hiss of escaping air, a small cylinder sped forward past her, causing her to instinctively shy away. The tube left a trail of smoke in the air, as it rushed towards the dragon.

He saw the incoming danger, and tried to roll to the side. However, he and his rider, as well as Saphira were greatly surprised when the tube made a sharp turn, moving to intercept the red dragon's path.

Desperately, he tried to avoid the projectile by pulling into a dive; however the missile simply followed him in an amazing show of agility.

Thankfully for the red dragon, the missile was heat seeking, and had a very small fuel tank, thus when the heat signature from the dragon's flames disappeared, it circled the area for a few turns, in an attempt to reestablish lock. Then it ran out of fuel, and simply fell to the ground, turning an entire platoon of imperial troops into a smoking crater.

Suddenly, Saphira noticed that she had been to focused on the missile that she had launched, as she found herself in front of the red dragon, who was utilizing his smaller size to catch up to her.

Saphira flinched as a blazing ball of red energy flew past her head. Diving to the left, she tried to shake the other dragon off her tail. However, he was smaller and more nimble as he swiftly adjusted his direction to compensate.

Saphira pulled up, as she got to close to the ground. As she desperately rolled to avoid another ball of light, an idea began to form in her mind, a desperate and dangerous idea, but the only one she had.

Utilizing her thrusters, she shot forward, the red dragon close on her tail. Timing it carefully, Saphira suddenly swiveled her wings in her sockets, until they were pointing straight up. As her thrusters realized what she wanted to do, they stabilized her, and slowed her down even further, as she tottered precariously in the air. The red dragon didn't even have time to blink, as his speed carried him straight past Saphira, who immediately returned her wings to their original position, her thrusters helping her gain extra speed to catch up to her opponent, who was now far ahead of her. Roaring in satisfaction, she sighted in with one of the components of her suit which she had been taught to use, and unleashed a barrage of bullets straight at the retreating back of her opponent. For a few seconds, nothing seemed to happen, as the bullets simply stopped in midair, and dropped to the ground, their explosive payload causing mass destruction amongst the imperial formations she was flying above. Then, the bullets broke through, and Saphira heard a shrill roar, filled with pain and fear, as the bullets tore through the thin flight membrane of her opponent, causing him to lose control and tumble downwards, in an uncontrolled dive.

The dragon hit a hill at speeds that made even Saphira wince with sympathy, as she landed beside him and immobilized him with a high efficiency chemical inhibitor, which was originally designed to be sprayed over enemy formations.

Saphira noted how she could have killed the dragon and his rider, but some sixth sense seemed to deter her from actually killing the two. Also, Saphira noted how the thought of killing a helpless dragon filled her with disgust. _No, I will not kill these two, let them be immobilized here, ready to be captured by our allies_.

She froze, when she noticed Eragon, who was in serious trouble.

Eragon swore, as a halberd depleted the last of the light shielding that his suit provided him. The blade was thankfully diverted by metal plating, but the next blade, swung by the soldier next to him cut into his arm, above the joint. Swiftly, he stabbed the man with his sword, and then spun around to parry another stroke aimed at his neck. With his shield down, he was in serious trouble as the men closed in around him. He knew that he was tiring, and that he would be overrun by enemy forces soon. He had never bothered placing wards on himself, instead choosing to place them over Saphira, Orik, and even the Master Chief, although he doubted he needed them. He was about to cleave the head of the man with the halberd open, when he saw the plasma mortar coming down, straight at him. Dimly, he realized that he would not survive the blast, as he had seen the power of the mortar before.

His thoughts drifted to Oromis and Glaedr, as he stared death in the face. Suddenly, he recalled a particular instruction given to him by Oromis, and another conversation even earlier. An idea began to form in his mind. As the ball of plasma drifted gracefully downwards, he reached out his mind towards the giant ball of energy. As it connected, Eragon felt a savage smile grace his face as he felt the rushing, contained energy of the plasma. Swiftly, he drew upon it, seeking to suck the ball dry before it hit the ground.

Just as the ball as about to hit, Eragon drew the last of the power from it, and the ball of plasma simply disappeared. However, Eragon had never felt so energized in his life; the ball of energy had contained more energy than twenty, men. Reenergized, Eragon felt a laugh tear out of his lips, as he raised his sword high above him, and plunged straight into the ranks of the enemy.

As he rushed in, he heard a roar, as Saphira, jumped in beside him, and unleashed a withering torrent of flames that vaporized everything in its path. Just as he was about to finish off the rest of the soldiers, they parted to reveal a man that Eragon had hoped never to see again.

"Durza?" Spat Eragon, "I thought I had killed you, before"

The figure chuckled, a rising peal of laughter laced with madness "Durza? That little weakling? No, We are far more powerful, for We have been given the power of the gods!"

He stepped forward and pointed at the men surrounding Eragon. They stiffened, and collapsed onto the ground, twitching in agony, as their bones liquefied, and their bodies lost their structure.

Eragon gasped in horror at the sight before him. Fighting against the urge to throw his previous meal up, he grasped his sword tightly, as he lunged forwards towards the shade.

His eyes widened as Zar'roc was blocked by the shade's little finger.

Backing up, he desperately parried the new shade's swings of his own sword.

He gasped in pain, as the shade swung his blade one last time knocking Zar'roc out of his hands with ease. Before he could turn to run, he found himself suspended in the air by magic.

Roaring in anger, Saphira leapt to his aid, only to be suspended herself. Desperately, she activated her thrusters in an attempt to get free. When that didn't work, she unleashed a brilliant pillar of flames, hotter than the surface of the sun. However, the shade raised his finger, and split the flames in two, each side washing harmlessly past him, and incineration a column of men.

Growling in frustration, Eragon began to chant in the Ancient Language.

_Under the Burning Plains_

Thel smiled as the countdown timer on his clock counted down the last minute. He readied the light rifle in his hands, and activated the hard light shielding provided by his new combat skin, identified by Mendicant Bias as a Class 12, the most powerful class in use by the forerunner empire at the end of the forerunner-flood war. According to Mendicant Bias, the Class 12 was used exclusively by the elite of the forerunners. Significant members like the Diadact himself.

Thel felt honored to be allowed to use such a suit, although he had originally been fearful of any anti-espionage measures designed to kill the wearer unless it was the one it was assigned to. However, Mendicant Bias had assured him that the countermeasures were disabled by him, and the skin now recognized him as the user, provided that he first donned his combat harness.

Thel grinned in anticipation, as the ports allowing access to the surface of the planet opened. He stood under one of the holes, and waited for the anti-gravity field to take effect.

_The humans need our help, and our help they shall receive. To the lowlifes following Galbatorix, it will seem like the very earth has turned against them. _

Thel allowed a savage smile to grace his mandibles, as he rose up onto the Burning Plains once more, this time backed up by hundreds of thousands of sentinels.

The imperial soldiers stopped fighting, and trembled in awe and fear, as the earth they were standing on lifted up into the air, forming a swarm of silvery machines, while in the center, stood a fearsome figure in gleaming silver armor.

Thel lifted his head up, and his eyed gleamed as he contemplated the fearful looks of the men before him. He had one thought before he charged, signaling the sentinels to begin their assault.

The Calvary has arrived.

A/N: WOOT! 4K words! that's the longest chapter I have written yet! Hope you guys like it, and I'll try to update soon! Also, I've noticed I have never mentioned the Blood-Oath Celebration :( I will be fixing that chapter shortly. Hope you guys understand!


	14. The Clash of Civilizations

Disclaimer: I do not own Eragon or Halo.

A/N: Still felt guilty, so this is the last part of the Battle of the Burning Plains. :P Hope you guys enjoy!

Chapter 14: The Clash of Civilizations

John's heart sank as he watched the boy and his dragon get captured, over a kilometer away. Cortana reacted faster than he did.

"I have set a waypoint where the boy was captured. If you move now, you might make it in time to prevent them from being captured."

Placing his trust in Cortana as he had countless times before, John leapt off the scarab, making sure to land on an imperial soldier as he hit the ground. He had grabbed some basic supplies during his brief rest in the relative safety of the scarab's platform. Reaching downwards, John pulled out two needlers, and opened fire, making sure to target individuals with only the minimum amount required for detonation. Pink clouds burst all around him, as he rushed into the sea of enemies once again. Suddenly, a grotesque face loomed in front of him, laughing maniacally, oblivious to the spear that had run him through in the stomach. John didn't even have time to think, before his body reacted, and six pink needles embedded themselves in the man's face.

The headless torso slowly sank to the ground, as the men around him were sent flying back, microscopic shards embedded in their limbs.

Ignoring the blood that was smeared across his visor, John spun around, and pulled a spear from the closest man's surprised hands. Spinning it around, he rammed the barbed point into his stomach, then smashed the other end into the chest of another. Sliding under the spear, now suspended across the two bodies, John grabbed another man and rushed forward, using the now mangled body as a shield against the multitude of spears and swords.

Discarding the body, John grabbed the spiked end of a mace, and pulled the unfortunate man to him. Suddenly, he pushed forward, and the user of the mace found himself embedded on the handle, a fine red mist around him as he sank into the embrace of death.

As John fought through the mass of imperial soldiers, the scarab had sensed John's objective, and begun to follow him. The scarab lived true to it's dual purpose as a heavy assault platform, and a physiological weapon. The four spiked legs ignored clear ground, impaling any man foolish enough to stand his ground. The turret mounted on the top fired several bursts into the crowd in front of John, vaporizing hundreds in an instant.

The scarab paused in its rampaging, locking its legs, as the frontal plasma cannon charged up for another deadly beam. Seeing the ominous glow, men scattered, as they tried to avoid the wave of death that was sure to follow, however their efforts were in vain, as the beam carved a line straight in the retreating men's backs.

Realizing that they would all die unless the walking monstrosity was destroyed, a corporal rallied a group of men, thinking to overwhelm the single beast, and the twenty smaller, and nimbler machines that followed it, like an honor guard.

The men rushed the scarab, drawing more and more support as they sought to overwhelm it through sheer numbers. However, they found themselves trapped underneath the giant monstrosity, unable to ascend the swiftly moving legs. Just then, the plasma cannons on the side of the scarab opened fire, pouring a hail of deadly plasma down into the mass, melting armor and flesh alike.

Many of the smarter ones realized that they would be safe underneath the walker, and sprinted under it, out of the reach of the deadly plasma cannons. One such man allowed himself to sigh in relief, as he managed to reach the bottom of the beast. Suddenly, he felt a drip land on his nose. His eyes widened in recognition, as he slowly looked up, only to double over and loose his meager breakfast, as he saw the smeared gore of the men that had been unlucky enough to be underneath it, as it landed after reentry.

Thankfully for him, his misery was quickly ended, as the scarab sank to it's knees, crushing all who had been standing underneath it.

Seeing the apparent demise of the walker, men rushed towards it, intent on avenging their allies on the now exposed crew on the scarab. However, they found themselves faced with a literal wall of plasma, as two plasma cannons, and a squad of elites opened fire.

Within the scarab itself, a group of lekgolo slithered out of the core, and into two suits of armor, each with a massive shield where the left arm would normally be, and plasma cannon where the right arm was.

The imperial men found themselves flung into the air, as the hunters rushed into the throng, swinging their massive shields with unimaginable ease. Their plasma cannons glowed, as they heated up in a similar fashion to the scarab's main gun, each releasing a smaller beam of glowing plasma into the enemy, carving two parallel lines in the ranks of men.

One soldier realized an opportunity, as he lifted his spear and thrust it into the back of one of the hunters. His eyes widened in horror, as what appeared to be muscle separated easily, then began to pull the spear from his hand, and into the beast itself. Before he could even attempt to pull the spear back, the hunter spun around, and smashed his shield in a backhanded blow across the man's head.

Unnoticed, the man's spear slowly pulled itself into the suit of armor.

Another man rushed forward, seeking to stab the face of the hunter, as it was distracted. However, he found himself running down a spear, as the hunter thrust the spear it had taken previously forwards, and out of the front of its 'face'. The man died with a surprised expression on his face, and slowly fell down, propped up by the spear embedded in his chest.

The men surprised by the barrage of heavy fire from the bay of the scarab suddenly found themselves trapped, as the locusts swiftly moved in behind them, making short work of all that stood in their way. By the time the scarab moved upward, leaving the trap it had set, the only things left on the ground were burnt bodies, and molten steel still glowing cherry red. Green glass slowly began to crystalize in the deeper parts of the trenches carved by the plasma beams.

Roran cursed, as he smashed the head of another imperial soldier with his hammer. After the _Victory _had begun firing, he disembarked with the marines, joining their rush into the enemy, as massive shockwaves from the ship's giant guns rocked the very ground they stood on.

Stepping back from the fight, Roran took stock of his wounds, many of which were fairly serious. Wincing in pain, Roran dragged an arrowhead out of a particularly painful wound out of his arm. Bracing himself, he prepared to wrap a bandage around it. However, a marine paused while running past him to get to a more advantageous position and instructed him in the wonders of biofoam.

"Hey, don't use that bandage kid, it hampers your movement and could get you killed." He yelled as he tossed a vial of strange yellow liquid at him. "Inject that into the wound, it should stop the bleeding, and help recovery!" He continued on his way to the hill he had been eying.

Frowning at the small vial, and wondering how in the world it could be effective, Roran shrugged and jammed the thin needle into his arm, and depressed the tube. An involuntary scream of pain ripped out of his mouth as the liquid travelled up his bloodstream, and moved into the wound, where it expanded, and hardened. Wincing at the initial pain, Roran let out a sigh of relief as the wound grew numb, swallowing up all pain that he was feeling.

Moving his arm around experimentally, Roran was satisfied that the foam did not inhibit his movement. Grinning, Roran rejoined the fight, making a mental note to himself to get some more of the strange liquid at the first chance he got.

Eragon snarled in frustration as he attempted to move once again, struggling against his invisible bonds that held him in place, despite his best efforts. Gathering his energy for the twenty first time, he once again drew on the plasma from nearby bolts to fuel his spell.

For the twenty first time, he was forced to release the magic, as he began seeing black due to the lack of energy, despite the input from the plasma.

Eragon felt a hopelessness he had never felt before, as he realized that he had no hope of defeating the shade in front of him. Struggling once more, he felt the shade give slightly as a 120mm round burst directly in front of the shade.

Unfortunately, it did little to no damage, as the fireball was simply pulled from the air, the shrapnel simply falling to the ground without the explosive force to propel them.

The shade smiled a grotesque, twisted smile that looked more like the mix between a snarl, and a grimace. "You have failed, Dragon Rider. Now, if you will let Us bring you to Our master, he has great plans for you."

Eragon realized that his struggling was doing nothing but tiring himself out, and subsequently stopped. However, he had one last, desperate gamble. Conversing with Saphira, he waited until a wraith shell landed on top of the shade.

Before the ball of plasma could be dissipated by the shade, Eragon quickly drew all the plasma out of the air, just as Saphira began to feed her own energy to him. Gasping at the energy that filled his body, he put all his efforts into one last spell.

Saphira realized that it was still not enough, and utilized the fire in her belly to bring forth a plasma enhanced pillar that sped towards Eragon, not the shade.

Eragon blinked rapidly, trying to clear the black spots from his vision just in time to see the roaring pillar of flames speeding towards him. Realizing Saphira's idea, he reached out with his mind, and pulled the energy from the plasma in Saphira's flames.

Unfortunately, the extra energy was still not enough, and Eragon finally succumbed to darkness, as he lost consciousness.

Coming back to the world, Eragon saw the shade standing over him frowning. Realizing he was free, Eragon rapidly grabbed his sword and lunged at the dark mass of the shade's robes.

He yelped as he was suspended once again above the ground, then froze as the strongest mental probe he ever felt smashed into his mind. Desperately, Eragon retreated from the mental onslaught, using all his concentration in an attempt to ignore his pounding headache, and defeat the shade's invasive presence.

Eragon felt tears spring to his eyes, as he realized that he was hopelessly outmatched, and that he would be captured, and forced to serve Galbatorix with Saphira for the rest of eternity. Any second now, the shade would have passed his defenses and assumed full control of his body.

It ended sooner than he expected. Three beams of pure golden energy blazed into existence two centimeters from his face, and burned a hole through the shade's arm. It was more than enough to break his concentration, as Eragon fell to the ground and scrambled away desperately.

Looking behind him to find his savior, he froze as he encountered the most awe-inspiring sight he had ever seen.

Thel smirked as he rose above the ground on the anti-gravity lift. Raising his light rifle to chest height, he roared his challenge to the heavens. Turning his attention to the surprised, and fearful imperial troops, he saw the rider, Eragon suspended into the air, a grimace on his face as he fought against the shade in a deadly mental dance.

Without pausing to zoom, Thel aligned his reticule with the red haired man, and fired. His weapon kicked backwards, as three beams of golden energy lanced towards the shade.

Seeing the shade's concentration break, Thel rushed forwards, scattering his enemies like bowling pins. He growled, as the men compacted together, slowing his rush down. Keying a command on his new combat skin, he watched in awe as the technology used by the gods proved their superiority.

Beams of pure hardlight spread out, splintering into ever smaller threads, like a massive spider web. The beams disregarded all his enemies, and drove right through them, impaling hundreds of men, before losing its cohesion and splintering into a million tiny beams, which proceeded to fly outwards, splintering whenever it passed through an enemy.

Within seconds, every enemy in a three hundred meter radius was dead, bleeding from hundreds of puncture wounds as the hardlight web dissipated.

Thel took advantage of the shade's shock and rushed forward, disassembling his light rifle and unclipping his energy sword from its place of honor on his right leg.

The shade dropped Eragon, as he smiled a savage smile from bloodless lips. He pulled out his own sword in preparation to meet the silver-clad menace.

Thel swung his sword in a full overhead swing, intending to shear through the shade's blade with pure plasma. To his surprise, the blade held, stopping his energy blade a mere centimeter from the shade's skull.

Kicking out, he heard Eragon's desperate call: "Stab him in the heart! It's the only way to truly kill a shade!"

Nodding his thanks to Eragon, Thel paid the price, as he was forced to roll away from the sweeping blade. Judging by the speed the swing came in at; Thel estimated that it had at least the same force as one of John's punches, if not more. Even with his high-end forerunner combat skin, he would not be able to hold very long against such a powerful swing.

Rolling back just in time to avoid another slash, Thel realized that he was in serious trouble.

John saw the Arbiter backing desperately away from the red-haired man. Realizing just how quickly he moved, he redoubled his efforts to reach his friend in time. Without bothering to holster his SAW, he drove the barrel through one man, and pulled the trigger, shredding the man behind him into pieces. Pulling the now bloody barrel out, John quickly reloaded, discarding the magazine on the ground as his hands automatically sought a fresh clip.

Slapping the new clip in, John fired a short burst, killing a cluster of men in front of him. He was now another step closer to his objective. Flipping his gun around, John smashed the end of his rifle into the skull of a man, before shifting his body away from the barrel, and depressing the trigger. The barrel burst into life, blasting several bullets into the man behind him, who had been about to swing his club at the back of his head.

Returning his weapon back to his previous position, John pulled two grenades out of his belt, and primed them, before punching them into the ground. Before Cortana could criticize him about his reckless actions, he jumped, utilizing the blast from the two grenades to leap high into the air, as his shield sparked, repelling any shrapnel that decided to go his way.

The imperial men gaped in astonishment, as the suit of armor and its occupant, totaling an entire ton, flew fifty feet into the air, lifted up by the twin detonations of the grenades.

John rolled to soften his impact. Pulling his gun up, he noticed the imperial soldiers running around in absolute panic, as silvery machined floated above, sending beams of golden light into anything that moved. John felt a sour taste rise up in his mouth, as he remembered the events of the third Halo he had been on. He was tired of sentinels. He hated them with all his heart. They just seemed to pop up out of nowhere, and betray him the second he refused to follow the directions of the monitor.

However, his training won out, and he decided to ignore the floating machines, for now.

Sprinting as fast as he could, he topped out at 27 kilometers per hour, as a dust cloud rose in his wake. Anything in his way was flattened like road kill, as he barreled through entire imperial formations to help his friend out in his duel, which seemed to be going very badly.

Suddenly, a bastille seemed to materialize in front of him, the giant bolt pointing straight at him. Tensing, John rolled to the left as the string was released, sending the meter long missile downrange.

Coming to his feet, John was about to blow the thing up with his last grenade, but before he could, it erupted in a ball of flame and dust. The cause of it was evident, as a few seconds later, a shortsword roared overhead, preforming a loop to position itself for a second bombing run. Not a second after, two pelicans flew overhead, positioning itself right in front of him.

Just as two members of Fireteam Crimson jumped off, two more dust clouds appeared beside them, revealing two Mantis fighting machines. John quickly exchanged greetings with the four Spartan IVs, and continued his run to the shade. Fireteam Crimson followed, destroying anything in their way.

John rolled out of the way, as the leader of Charlie warned him of the incoming missile. He dived to the left just as said missile hissed past him, creating a new crater in the middle of a cluster of imperial men. Slowing down, John told Charlie to take point, as his shielding recharged.

Green acknowledgement lights blinked, as the four members rushed past him, sending enemies scattering around them. John watched, as twenty men tried to overcome a mantis through sheer numbers. Before John could even bring his gun to bear, the driver of the mantis overloaded the hydraulic pumps, smashing the left foot into the ground, crushing four of the men, and concussing the rest, as fractured rock flew past them like shrapnel.

John sped up his pace, now that his shielding had recharged, and continued his rush to the Arbiter.

Thel snarled as he blocked the shade's blade with his own. He was weakening, Thel knew it, but he could not retreat to regain his strength. His hardlight shielding had already taken a few hits, although they recharged much quicker than his normal shields, he realized that blows were landing on him at a much higher rate.

Taking another step back, Thel cursed the treacherous ground, which prevented him from using his thruster pack to give him a boost back so he could bring his light rifle to bear.

Thel realized that he needed a distraction, but it seemed that the distraction he desperately needed was far off, as he warded off another swing from the shade. Lunging forward, Thel felt a miniscule amount of satisfaction as his blade broke past the shade's guard. However, it seemed that the shade had placed powerful wards on his armor as well; and he only managed a scratch on the shade's breastplate.

Suddenly, Thel was saved, as ten rockets streaked out from behind him, heading for the shade. He was forced to dodge back, as the two mantises stomped forward to help Thel. Following them, were the two members of Fireteam Crimson. Quickly, Thel informed them of the shade's particular situation, and his weakness. Nodding in confirmation, the two members of Charlie on the ground began to circle the shade, along with Thel. Quickly, like a striking snake, the shade jumped up, flipping over Thel, to land on a mantis, where he proceeded to stab his blade into the back. Thankfully, the Spartan managed to eject before the fireball consumed him.

Just as Thel was about to lunge forward, the shade raised his palm, and sent a powerful blast of blue energy into the leg of the second mantis. The driver quickly realized that the mantis was now useless, and jumped out, drawing out a shotgun, as he landed.

Lunging, Thel watched the members of Crimson following him, as they spread out, and readied their weapons. Reaching the shade, Thel slashed at him, and then swung his leg out in a roundhouse kick at the shade's stomach.

The shade flew back from the kick, several ribs broken. However, he simply stood back up and watched, as his ribs rearranged themselves. Soon, he was ready to fight again. As Crimson One flipped over the wreckage of the first mantis, he fired two bursts from his battle rifle, all of which were dodged by the shade.

Taking advantage of the shade's distraction, Thel pulled out his light rifle, and took aim at the shade's heart. Swiftly he fired a single, charged bolt at the shade. To his disappointment, it froze right before it hit him.

The shade quickly jumped aside, just as the beam unfroze, and continued on its path.

Spinning as he landed, the shade conjured up a gust of wind, which knocked Thel and his allies off balance. Not wasting a second, the shade rushed at Thel and attempted to stab him through the gut.

Thankfully, the hardlight shielding held, as Thel swung his own sword in retaliation. The blade of energy passed a mere hairsbreadth away from the shade's head, surprising Thel. Leaping back they disengaged. Thel noted with interest that his swings seemed to be getting closer to the shade. However he was sure that his swings were never that inaccurate before. He was thankful to see his old accuracy and skill was apparently returning.

Rushing the shade again, Thel was joined by the entirety of Fireteam Crimson, all of whom were using their combat knives, as it seemed that bullets did nothing. Swinging, Thel managed to force the shade backwards, providing Crimson Two with an opening. It was not wasted, as she rushed in and rammed her knife into the arm of the shade. As the wound began closing, she held the knife in, preventing it from healing properly, as skin grew around the titanium blade. Suddenly, she was knocked backwards by a powerful punch dealt by the shade. She flew backwards, knocking into Crimson Four, who had been about to throw his knife into the shade's heart. The knife went off course, and embedded itself in the dirt a few feet away.

As the Spartans and Thel recovered, John was still fighting his way through the mob. He had seen the shade blocking normal bullets and even railgun slugs with absolute ease, so he had taken a detour, fighting his way back to the allied lines, and picking up his favorite piece of equipment. Holstering it on his back, the magnetic clamps automatically engaged, holding the weapon in place. Turning, he sprinted up to a parked hornet, and powered up the engines. Flying high above the enemy, he rushed back to where the fight with the shade was happening. As he flew, he constantly fired into the dwindling mass on imperial troops, sowing confusion among the ranks as missiles and bullets tore through their ranks from up above.

Suddenly, the cockpit of the hornet came alive, as the right thruster failed spectacularly in midair, detonating in a brilliant flash of light. John was out of the plane in seconds, cursing Murphy's Law as he freefell towards the fighting below. Suddenly, his visor zoomed into the shade, as Cortana noticed that Thel and Fireteam Crimson was in deep trouble. John immediately began to look for a suitable platform to fire his weapon. He found a suitable platform, as the hull of the hornet fell past him, upside down. He immediately dived onto it, and began to set up his weapon.

Thel cursed, as the shade held him up, along with his allies. Struggling uselessly, he watched as Eragon regained consciousness, and lunged; only to be suspended himself, along with his dragon.

"Interesting, your skill in fighting is unmatched in this realm," said the shade, "the king shall be very interested to see you."

The shade smiled that twisted smile again, as he turned to leave the battlefield. "I'm sure that the King shall find a suitable role for you, once he has found your true names."

Thel spat in his face, as he growled in frustration. Looking around, he realized that there would be no help. The sentinels were too busy, and Mendicant Bias was nowhere to be found.

Then, he heard a familiar voice over the Battlenet.

"Huh, never thought you would be in that position eh, Arbiter? Looks like I finally get to return that favor I owe you for covering me on High Charity."

Thel spun his neck around, and saw a falling hornet high above the fighting men. Looking closely, he saw the solitary figure standing on it, using it as a stable platform to fire from.

The shade followed Thel's line of sight, only to frown as he too noticed the figure on the falling vehicle. He shrugged disregarding the tiny figure, as it was too far for any of the ballistic weapons used by some of the men among the Varden.

His opinion was forcibly rewritten, as a beam red light, a solid state laser burned a hole through him. Right through his heart.

His scream tore into the sky, high and terrible. It fried several F99s above him, which promptly fell out of the sky. He reached out a trembling arm, touching the hole where his heart usually was. Then he left the world forever, as his skin turned transparent, and several glowing balls of energy shot out of his skin, and into the gathering dusk.

For a second, the imperial men froze, as their leader's death began to sink in. He had been undefeatable, and indestructible. That was proven to them when Galbatorix himself had run a blade through his neck, and caused no damage at all. They had believed that with the shade, they would never loose. Now, as the shade's death spread among the ranks of the Empire, individuals began to turn tail and run, then whole companies. Within a minute, the entire army was in full retreat, chased by the sentinels, who did not show mercy, cutting down the retreating figures at random.

Hours later, Eragon stumbled alongside Saphira, to the place where the red dragon and his rider had been immobilized by the drugs carried by Saphira's suit.

Stopping beside the rider, Eragon bent down, his knees screaming in protest. He reached down, and grabbed the man's helmet, ripping it off the immobilized man in a single smooth motion.

His eyes widened in shock, as he took a step back; the helmet falling from nerveless fingers.

"Hello brother," said Murtagh.

A/N: So here it is. This is where the second book, Eldest ended. However, I will continue my story until the end of Inheritance. Also, even if I still feel guilty, uploads will slow down slightly, as I have high school to worry about. (I don't want a repeat of the last two months lol) Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and please review, and point out any faults! Thanks! and see you guys soon!


	15. Still Alive

Disclaimer: I do not own Eragon or Halo

A/N: Well, here's the fifteenth chapter. Not too happy with this one, seemed confusing to me. Ah well it's only a filler chapter. This chapter's main reason was to set the stage for Helgrind, and lead in to a few others. Also, do you guys want me to bring back Brom? after all it is confirmed that the UNSC Hopeful had managed to bring people back from the dead, and technology obviously advanced quickly, with the transfer of technologies from one race to another. The scientists could well have managed to figure out how to bring back someone dead for twelve hours. However, I want to know your opinions on Brom. Should I bring him back, or not? Anyway hope you enjoy the transition chapter(although nothing exciting happened.)

Chapter 15: Still Alive

Eragon took a step back, shock written across his face. "B-Brother?" He asked, fear running through his veins. He thought back to his travels with Murtagh. Slowly, no matter how hard he tried to deny it, pieces of the puzzle that was Murtagh began to fall in place.

"You guessed it, didn't you brother." Laughed Murtagh, a twisted smile formed on his face.

It was so unlike the Murtagh he knew, Eragon was tempted to draw his sword and run the man before him through.

"You never told me of your past, didn't you?" asked Murtagh, smiling viciously. "I'll tell you the name of mine. Her name was Selena." He laughed again, taking delight in Eragon's anguished expression. "I can see your mother had the same name. Actually, they were one and the same."

Eragon took a step back as the implications of his words sank in. "But, t-that means."

"Morzan was your father too. Younger brother, I salute you, Eragon Morzanson. You are the youngest son of the Last Forsworn."

Eragon backed up, denial slipping in. However, he knew deep inside, that it was true. Murtagh was too similar to him for it to be just a coincidence. Their fighting style was identical. And Zar'roc fit his hands perfectly, as if it had been made for him. Deep inside, he had known all along that his father was Morzan. The clues were all too obvious, if he knew to look for them.

As he had done unconsciously countless times before, Eragon pushed his morbid thoughts about his lineage down, burying it under countless other memories. Memories of sweat, rolling off his back as he labored beside Roran to till the fields for the spring planting season. The cry of birds, and the musty smells of the forest, as he tracked a deer through the treacherous Spine. And especially of Brom, who had been like a father to Eragon, despite his lineage which was undoubtedly known. His tales of the dragons, when he had been a simple farmboy. His tales, which had captivated him then, now served to drive his thoughts aside. Tales of valor and bravery. Tales of the early riders, and his namesake Eragon.

Remembering the stories, Eragon finally managed to bury his thoughts and fears beneath a mountain of his happiest memories. Recomposing his face, he turned back to Murtagh.

"Why? Murtagh, why did you join Galbatorix? Did you not declare your hatred of him? Did you not loathe being in your father's shadow?" He asked, hoping for the hope that the old Murtagh he had known was still alive, buried beneath the new personality he was currently facing.

"Did you think I wanted to be captured?" asked Murtagh quietly, "Did you think that I didn't regret for a second, not following the group that had chased after the Urgals? Do you not think that even today, I hate the pride that drove me to volunteer for that cursed place next to Ajihad to prove my loyalty?"

Murtagh's words, which had started out as a mere whisper, now rose to a scream as he vented his fury at the world. "Did I ask to sneak off, trying to escape and find Galbatorix's treasure room? Did I ask for Thorn to hatch for me? Did I ask for Galbatorix to find me as I stood there, and force our true names out of us?" Tears streamed down his face as the painful memories of his imprisonment returned.

Eragon felt a rush of relief, as he realized that the Murtagh he had known was still alive, fighting to regain his old identity, fighting to remain pure to his old values. Values of friendship, and comradeship.

"I tried, I tried to escape, after he found our true names, we spent months, searching, trying to find a way, any way to escape Galbatorix's clutches. By the end of the second month, I had been running only on the energy of the-" At this point, Murtagh choked, unable to continue further.

Eragon quickly caught his slip of the tongue. "Energy of the what? He asked desperately. He realized that whatever Murtagh was about to say, it could well have been the key to Galbatorix's inhuman strength."

Unfortunately, Murtagh seemed to be unable to continue, choking over his own tongue, as he tried to continue. Finally, he gave up.

"I-I can't say it, my oath that Galbatorix extracted from me prevents me from speaking of them. However, if she consents, Saphira could tell you." He finally managed to choke out the words.

Spinning around, he saw Saphira with standing behind him, an inquiring tilt to her head, as her confusion flowed across his mental link.

Seeing their confusion, Murtagh managed one more word before falling unconscious, lying beside his dragon. "Hearts"

His cryptic answer confused Eragon even further, although Saphira seemed to realize some of what Murtagh was trying to say.

An image flashed through her mind, before being hurriedly masked. A spark of anguish appeared in her mind in its place.

_What is it? _Asked Eragon, as he felt hope rising, hope that Saphira could possibly know Galbatorix's secret.

_Later, I still have some suspicions I need to prove right now. I have an idea, but it seems like a long leap right now. I will need to ask Glaedr of this matter._

Eragon nodded, quelling his frustration at Saphira's answer.

_Then let us return to Ellesmera quickly._

Saphira nodded her assent, relief flowing through her. She had quite a few topics she wanted to discuss with her teachers.

_Meanwhile, let's get these two secured in a more solid way._

As soon as he thought about it, he stopped short, wondering how in the world he would be able to contain the two. There was no way he could truly secure them, short of killing them. After all, they were too powerful to be simply bound, and it was proven that drugs would not work, once a rider was aware of its presence. Anyway, the thought of drugging his longtime companion (he just could not think of him as a brother) left a sour taste in his mouth.

Unexpectedly, his answer arrived, in the form of an albatross heavy transport ship. As it landed, Thomas walked out, moving to stand beside Eragon as he gazed down at the downed dragon and rider.

"I assume you are going to need some help getting him secured as a prisoner, right?" he asked.

Eragon nodded mutely, still confused, and in denial, despite his best efforts.

"It's just like trying to keep a Spartan prisoner," he continued, allowing a hint of a smile to break through.

"However, we have our own methods, so let's get these two into the transport, and leave. What do you say?"  
Eragon finally nodded, before drawing upon Saphira's strength to lift up the immobilized dragon and rider. Even with Saphira's strength, the task left him panting, and barely able to walk.

Noticing his condition, Thomas dug into his pack, and brought out a ration bar. "Here, have this; it will help you get your strength back.

Nodding his thanks, Eragon choked down the dry morsel, some energy returning to his limbs. Nodding his thanks, Eragon boarded the albatross, grabbing onto a support strut uncertainly, as the giant machine lifted off the ground, and flew off into the sky.

Eragon wondered how such a thing could move, as the heavy ramps lifted into position, sealing shut with a hiss. Saphira followed closely behind, utilizing the last of her thrusters' fuel to keep up with the fast moving transport.

As they flew, Eragon hunched down against one of the ramps, and studied the interior of the ship. Murtagh soon woke up. Struggling, he sat up against his dragon, and warily studied Eragon, before noticing where he was. "What in the name of Angvard? Where am I?" He leapt up in shock as he saw the titanium walls and floor of the albatross's interior, taking in the blinking lights, and glowing monitors.

His hand dropped to his waist, seeking a sword that was not there. He felt decidedly uncomfortable in this new environment. Just then, the ship lurched, throwing him off balance, and sending him tumbling against the flank of his dragon. The sudden impact woke Thorn up, as he scrabbled around, his claws refusing to find purchase against the strange floor.

Before he could even take stock of the situation, a voice emanated from all directions, unsettling the pair even more.

"I wouldn't go around breathing fire if I were you, This vehicle is sealed during flight, due to the high altitude we fly at. So on the off chance that you do hit something vital, we would be forced to vent you out into the air. I wouldn't want to be you then, as were at a height were even dragons have never reached. In fact, there's barely any air up here, and even dragons have trouble in such environments."

The voice successfully quelled Thorn's immediate instinct. Enemy or no, Thorn's instincts had never failed him yet, and right now his instincts told him it would be unwise to be flying at their current altitude without protection; very unwise.

The remainder of the journey was spent in silence, as the two brothers faced each other, each leaning against, a wall, and Thorn curling up in the middle, as best as he could.

Murtagh felt a fierce sense of exultation, as he found a loophole in his oath to Galbatorix. He told himself that he was merely biding his time, regaining his strength as he prepared his next course of action.

He tried not to, but his cursed oath still forced him to try and think of a way out of his situation, so he could return to Galbatorix with Eragon and Saphira in tow.

Eragon was unnerved by the complete silence between them. Withdrawing into himself, Eragon began to review his lessons with Oromis, taking extra care to shield his mind from outside scrutiny. Captured or not, he could not risk knowledge of his mentor leaking out into Galbatorix's hands.

As he thought through the lessons, a particular one stood out, seemingly the most important lesson of all.

His eyes flew open, as he fully recalled the words of his mentor.

"Murtagh? He tentatively asked, wondering whether he was asleep."

Murtagh's eyes snapped open, as he glanced at Eragon curiously. "What?" he asked. He did not miss the positive tone in Eragon's voice, and his hopes to find a way out of Galbatorix's clutches soared. He was not disappointed by Eragon's next words.

"When I was away with the elves, they taught me something. When a person changes drastically, his true name changes too, to reflect upon his new identity. That means that your oaths will no longer bind you, should you manage to change your name."

Murtagh closed his eyes, hope rising in his chest, before it stopped, frozen in place as he realized the first portion of Eragon's words. "Change yourself? As in completely? How can I? I am ruled by my hate, and I will not let it go." Turning his head, he gave Eragon a twisted smile, as he quelled the feeling of hope down. "I am defined by my hate, and it is a part of me that I am not willing to let go of. How can I, when it is my hate of Galbatorix preventing me from attempting to capture you right now, by making up all kinds of excuses?" He shook his head. "I would sooner part with a leg or arm than my hate."

Just as he finished, the three ramps of the albatross hissed open, catching both men unaware, and sending them tumbling downwards.

Cursing, Murtagh turned towards the open bay, glaring at the man that was framed by it, chuckling as he leisurely strolled down the ramp.

"That'll teach you to lean against the ramp," Thomas chuckled at the sight of the two sprawled figures on each side of the albatross. "Didn't you see the warnings against that?"

Eragon groaned as he sat up. Mentally, he kicked himself as he saw the bright red signs, clear as day once it was pointed out by the captain.

"No, we didn't" he muttered sheepishly.

As Murtagh slowly took in his surroundings, he made up another excuse to not attack. This time, it was to gather information, and spy on the strange men that surrounded them, clad in clothing he had never seen before.

As he stood up, he allowed himself to be secured, along with Thorn, who seemed to have the same idea as Murtagh. Slowly, he stood up, flanked by four marines, each one with an assault rifle pointed straight at his chest. From the battle, Murtagh knew that it only took one shot to cause fatal injuries, if it struck the correct spot. Judging from the war-weary and grim faces of his guard, he knew that they would not miss. So he allowed himself to be lead away from Thorn, who was surrounded by strange green machines, each one with the long cylinder on top, capable of causing untold devastation whenever they were fired. All of the cylinders were pointed at Thorn, and he had no doubt the drivers' fingers would be right over the trigger mechanism, ready to fire at a moment's notice.

_They are able to kill us at a moment's notice, so listen to their directions, and make sure you don't anger them. Anyway, Eragon's words are intriguing; maybe we'll find something else to change within ourselves._ Murtagh comforted Thorn.

_Very well, I will listen to them for now, but if they harm you in any way, I will tear them apart, until the sky will rain their blood. _Thorn growled.

Their captors marched in perfect synch through the camp, ignoring everything around them, as they moved towards the center, where a single structure towered above the maze of tents. The size of the thing amazed Murtagh, as it was large enough for Thorn to crawl into. Judging by the tracks that seemed to be favored by the strange men, it was movable. Although Murtagh estimated that it would move very slowly. As he passed through the tents, he noticed a sharp change in the appearance of the tents. As he progressed inwards, the tents began to change into long half cylinders, made of a shiny metal that shone unlike any other.

The dress of the men also changed, and Murtagh realized that the Varden had split into two distinct areas. One of which were the standard men-at-arms that made up every army. The other half made up of the men wearing the strange, mottled green materials, and carried glowing rectangles that showed words and pictures. Every few minutes, a giant walker would stomp past, the weak sun glinting off the green material that made up all of the machined used by the men. Suddenly, they stopped before a large structure, made entirely of armored plate.

The men didn't even glance at him, they simply led him inside, and clamped his limbs with two steel bracelets, which sparked ominously whenever they got too far away from each other, causing a tingling sensation to run up his arms and legs.

Murtagh gave his chains an experimental tug, and gasped in surprise, as the tingling turned into a powerful shock, that left his arms and legs twitching involuntarily.

The leading man saw his movement and grinned. "I wouldn't do that son, these cuffs have special devices in them, which sends an electrical charge through you whenever they get too far apart. Hurts like the devil himself doesn't it?"

The man set down a purple device, a stark contrast from the rigid, and stiff designs favored by the people in this side of the camp. Instead, it reminded him of the aliens that seemed to be allied with them, a gracefully curving purple container, a light glowing softly in the center.

Setting it down, the man fiddled with the device, and stood up. A brilliant purple barrier shimmered into existence, trapping him against the wall.

"This one, I wouldn't touch, you won't get past it unless you have a ship-based weapon hidden somewhere on you, and it's quite painful for unshielded people to touch. Even a Spartan will have trouble busting himself out of one of these."

Grinning, the man turned, and sat himself down in a corner, settling down for his shift.

Through his mental connection, Murtagh saw Thorn trapped in a larger dome, outside of the building he was currently in. Sighing, he laid down, resigning himself to being a captive.

As Eragon followed Thomas into the command post, he noticed the excitement that seemed to run through the camp. He turned to Thomas.

"What's going on here? It doesn't look like they are just celebrating their victory," He asked Eragon. He knew they had just won a decisive victory against the Empire, but the actions of the men showed that they were celebrating something else, in addition to their victory.

Thomas chuckled, "I imagine that they are finding out just how wondrous our medics are" he said.

As he said so, a member of the Varden rushed into them, talking in an excited babble. "Did you hear? The doctors that came with the ship, they brought Daniel back to life!"

Eragon froze. "Back to life?" he asked, not believing the man's words.

"Yes, Daniel was brought in an hour ago, stone dead. Now he's alive, and jumping around like the idiot he is!" The man danced a happy jig in front of them, then rushed off to spread the news.

Thomas chuckled. "I guess I was right. The research aboard the UNSC _Hopeful_during the Great War proved to be an invaluable resource. They had been the first to bring a man back from the dead, although he had only died a few minutes before. Now we can revive people that have been dead for up to an entire day."

Eragon froze, as his thoughts drifted to another man, who had died long ago. _Brom._ He thought.

He reached out with his mind to Saphira. _You heard what he said, right?_

_Of course, why?_

_Brom had only been dead for about twelve hours, before we buried him, right?_

_Yes, why? _

_When you changed his tomb, you said time would not ravage him, right?_

_Yes, why?_

_So that means that he was frozen there for the se months, his body underwent no changes, right?_

_Yes, WHY? Why are you suddenly obsessed about Brom's death? He's already dead, it dosen't matter how long he was dead; the fact of the matter is that he is still dead, no matter if it was twelve hours ago, or an entire year. Even with the medicinal technologies these people have they still can't –oh, I see what you are talking about._

Murtagh was awakened by his guard, who had remained there for two hours.

"You have a visitor, if you try anything funny, I'll put a bullet through your head before you can say 'stop'. Got it?"

Murtagh nodded, wondering who would want to see him. _Maybe Eragon, _he thought to Thorn.

He was surprised, however when the door opened to admit someone very different from Eragon, someone whom he had almost forgotten due to his ordeal in Galbatorix's clutches.

"Nasuada?" he asked. Even as the name left his mouth, he realized that it was a stupid question. There was no other woman who carried herself with the same amount of grace and dignity as her.

"Why are you here?" he asked, surprised at her presence.

"Can I not come here to see an old friend?" she asked, her voice soft and musical.

She walked to him, and sat down next to him. The small cot that he had been given squeaked in protest of the weight of two people.

"Why do you consider me a friend? I betrayed the Varden, I betrayed you all. I don't deserve to even survive my duel with Saphira." He asked her, his voice betraying the inner anguish that he was feeling.

"Yes, you did betray us, you betrayed the Varden, Eragon, my father, and me." Said Nasuada, her voice soft. "But did you willingly betray us? You did not. You were forced into it by Galbatorix after he discovered your true name. Thus you did not betray us; you acted against us because you had no choice. I would never blame you for something you had no say in, and neither would the Varden."

"But why do you keep me alive right now? I'm a danger to you all, even now; I have to fight against my oath to not harm you. I have to repeatedly find excuses and loopholes to not attack. What happens if I run out of excuses?" asked Murtagh, as his head sunk into his palms.

Nasuada impulsively placed her arm around him in a comforting gesture. She sighed quietly in relief, as he did not pull away. "You are alive, because I believe in you, because Eragon believes in you. All of us trust that you will be able to change yourself, and change your true name. Then you will be out of the clutches of Galbatorix."

Murtagh felt his spirits rise, as he realized that no matter how badly he acted under the control of Galbatorix, his friends would still trust in him to return back to the correct path. _Maybe, just maybe, we could change ourselves._

Thorn's next words drove the thought out of his mind. _But how? Your hate and anger at Galbatorix is the only thing that is protecting the people in this camp. It's the only reason that you haven't attempted to kill any yet._

Murtagh sighed quietly, and muttered Thorn's words from his mouth.

Nasuada sighed, as she realized just how heavily Murtagh had been scarred, both mentally and physically. His back attested to it.

She pulled Murtagh closer to herself, murmuring in his ear. "The UNSC physicians told me the best way to let something go is to talk about it. I have no duties right now, and you have nothing else to do. Try to let your hate be swept away. Replace it with care, and concern for your friends, your comrades. Let your love of them help you find excuses, until your true name changes. Try to let go of your hate. Tell me everything. I'm here to listen."

Thorn wormed himself into Murtagh's mind. _Maybe we should try what she says. Perhaps we really can change our identities. If we cannot, we can let our love of our friends help us make excuses and find loopholes in our oaths. At least until our name changes._

Murtagh gave a shuddering sigh, as he unconsciously moved closer to Nasuada. Softly, he began his tale.

Roran was walking through the tents, searching for a specific person. Now that his original goal had been accomplished, his mind was once again focused on his singular, and most important objective.

_Find Katrina_.

He could still remember her cry of fear, as she slipped down the slope, into the waiting arms of the Ra'zac. He cursed himself for not having the courage to face the two monsters. Swiftly, he walked past the tents of the Varden, and continued on his way, through the orderly steel tubes the UNSC lived in. Turning a corner, he finally saw the person he was looking for.

"Eragon!" he called.

Eragon jerked out of his musings by a familiar voice. "Roran?" he asked, confusion lacing his voice. "Why are you here?"

The reply surprised him even more.

"I led Carvahall to escape from Galbatorix's men and the Ra'zac. But I'm not here to talk about that. I need your help, and I think you owe me a favor, seeing as you left before father had been buried."

"What help do you need?" asked Eragon. "I'll help you no matter what it is."

Once again, Eragon was surprised by the reply.

"I need your help to find Katrina."

_Urû'baen_

"What?" The guards standing outside the throne room jumped in surprise as the voice of Galbatorix filtered through the door. They winced in sympathy, knowing the fate that awaited the messenger that had dared to bring bad news to him.

"CAPTURED? HOW?" The messenger was not able to reply. It was sort of hard to talk when his head was rolling ten feet away from his body.

Had he been able to continue, Galbatorix would have gotten a valuable piece of information. However, he had acted hastily, and thus the UNSC's involvement, and the new technologies he was up against remained secret.

_Varden's Camp, Murtagh's Prison_

Nasuada murmured in sympathy, murmuring comfortingly, as she tried to help the shattered man before her.

"T-That's how we ended up as Galbatorix's name-slaves. After he had ensured our victory, he gave Thorn and I several of his Eldu-" He froze, a tingling sensation rushed down his back, as he realized what he had just said.

He looked within himself, and found that he had finally let go of his anger. It had been washed away by his determination to help his friends, the same way that they had helped him when he needed it.

Wonderingly, he raised his palms, staring at them as if they had transformed into gold. He laughed; a happy, triumphant laugh as he realized that for the first time in months, he was free.

He had faced his darkest nightmares and came out a new man. He had been able to survive his ordeal, and improve his view on life. For the first time in months, he felt truly alive again. No, he had been alive for the past months, but only just. He had been dying of oppression and power. Now he realized something. He was still alive.

A/N: And that's it for today. I had this half-finished, so I decided to finish it. Give you guys something to read. Also, FF seems to be screwing around with my indents, so if they show up incorrectly, or not at all, that's FF's fault, not mine :P. Also, I know very well that the first few chapters pretty much sucked. Those were my first chapters I ever wrote on FF, so give me some slack please. However, If the problems seen during the first chapters still exist, I'll be more than happy to try and correct them. Thank you guys for your continued support! I'll see you guys next chapter!


	16. Operation Phoenix Reborn

Disclaimer: I do not own Eragon or Halo.

A/N: Sorry for the long wait! (again... -_-) But my finals took precedence (I'm in a trimester based school system) and AP World History can be a real bitch sometimes... (Other times, its actually pretty fun) However, this week is spring break, and I have managed to finish the entirety of my homework (Hence the lack of an update for the previous days) and I should be chugging out the chapters this week like Henry Ford and his production line! :) I hope you enjoy the chapter, and I thank all the readers who took their time to review! I apologize if this chapter dosen't really match up with itself, as I had written it over quite a long period of time. I hope everyone out there still enjoys this chapter, and please point out choppy areas, so I can fix it. Thanks!

Chapter 16: Operation Phoenix Reborn

"Find Katrina?" Asked Eragon. "Where did she go? Why did she leave?"

He immediately realized just how stupid the question was as Roran visibly tensed, then turned his head to the side. "She fell into the Empire's hands along with her father as we were escaping Carvahall."

His voice betrayed the anguish that his adverted eyes hid, and Eragon was instantly contrite. "I'm sorry I shouldn't have asked."

Roran doggedly shook his head. "It doesn't matter, all I care about is getting her back from the Ra'zac and I need your help to do it."

Eragon backed up, still overwhelmed at his cousin's words.

Seeing Eragon's negative body language, Roran gave a small sigh. "I guess your duties as a rider are just too important for you to go tramping across the world, looking for a single person. I guess I'll just have to do this myself."

Eragon quickly dispelled his thoughts. "No, I will help you, I'm just still off balance, and tired from the fighting." He gave Roran a tired smile. "Ever since I left Carvahall, I've been conscious that I have very few I can actually call family. You are one of those few, and because of your intentions with Katrina, I have included her within that group. I already have precious few family, and some… I would rather not talk about. However, for those family members I do care about, I would rather kill myself than see them harmed. I will help you find Katrina, and return her to your side."

Roran gave a sigh of relief, as he realized he had misinterpreted Eragon's actions. Then, he frowned, catching an inconsistency with Eragon's monologue.

"You said that you have family members who you do not care for? Who were they?" he asked, confusion and curiosity sweeping over him.

Eragon's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, "there's no use beating around the bush, so I'll just say this directly. My father was Morzan, last of the Forsworn."

Roran backed up in shock. "Morzan?" he asked, overwhelmed by the declaration and even wondering if Eragon was joking. He discarded the thought immediately. Eragon wouldn't joke about something like that.

"Yeah, Morzan. I found out last week, when I captured my brother during the Battle of the Burning Plains."

"Your brother?" asked Roran, even more bewildered at the sudden turn of events.

"Yeah, the other rider we captured during the battle. He was my brother," said Eragon.

Roran grunted in sympathy, not knowing what to say.

"Enough of this moping, what's happened has happened, and there's nothing I can do to change it. I'll help you find, and rescue Katrina, but first, there is something that I need to do." Said Eragon.

Roran nodded, grateful to be on safer ground. "What is it that you need to do?" he asked.

Eragon turned away, heading back to his tent. "Brom" he said.

_UNSC Headquarters, Two Weeks Later_

"Hello Eragon, What brings you here?" asked Thomas, who was still facing the panel in front of him, glowing with a host of diagrams, ranging from a simple circle with two lines radiating upwards from the center, and glowing with a mass of yellow dots, to an extremely detailed three dimensional topographic map.

"I have a few questions I want answered." Replied Eragon.

Thomas turned around, motioning for Eragon to sit. "I'll try to answer them as long as they don't contain any classified information," he said.

Nodding, Eragon got straight to the point "You said that you were able to bring men back from the dead, provided that they were only dead for a few hours, right?" he asked.

Thomas nodded, confused. "Depending on the state the body is in, we can revive someone who has been dead for one hour to several days. Why?"

Eragon felt hope rise in his chest. "What if the person was protected from the decomposition process, but has been dead for a few months?"

Thomas frowned, "I do not know, to be honest, I do not know much about our current medicinal technology, except that biofoam is the best damn invention in the galaxy after the invention of the wheel, even though it hurts like hell. Your best bet would be to try the medics. Here, I'll take you to them."

Standing, Eragon followed him out the door.

_UNSC Field Hospital_

Eragon watched the buzzing of countless machines, as well as the beeps and symbols which formed meaningless designs on the screens. Even after several months of interaction with the UNSC, he could never wrap his mind around the sheer complexity and ability of the computers, and machines.

Thomas walked up to a resting doctor, who was obviously in charge.

The doctor saluted, nodding with a respectful "Captain"

Thomas acknowledged the motions with a nod, "At ease corporal, this young man has a question for you and your technology. Answer his questions, provided that they do not contain classified information."

The doctor nodded, delighted to have someone who was willing to learn something about the wonders of advanced biology.

Eragon didn't wait, diving straight into the point. "Is it possible for you to revive someone who has been dead for a few months?" He hurried to continue, seeing the man starting to shake his head already. "It has been sealed, and preserved exactly as he was when he died. Time did not touch him.

The doctor frowned, thinking "If the body has been in stasis, there may be a hope, provided that it was preserved with cryogenic precision. Anything short of that would not be enough."

Eragon thanked the man, a grin rising up to his face. _Did you hear that Saphira? Brom may be able to be brought back!_

_Maybe, but don't get your hopes up yet, we don't know what he meant by 'cryogenic precision'._

Eragon turned to Thomas, "Would you be able to revive Brom? He's buried on a cliff near the military city of Gil'ead.

The doctor interrupted before Thomas could reply, "No, it cannot be done, unless you had managed to get yourself a cryogenic pod, or freeze the time there locally, the body would have decomposed."

Eragon shook his head doggedly, "No, Saphira cast a spell on the tomb, Brom is exactly the same as he was when he died."

The medic opened his mouth in surprise, before it turned upwards in a wry grin, "I forgot that magic exists in this world, although I'm sure there is a scientific explanation to this. However, we might as well give it a try"

_UNSC INFINITY HANGAR: Two Weeks Later_

John looked at his teammates consisting of the entirety of Fire team Crimson critically. They were no Blue Team, but they would do.

Beside him, the Arbiter stood in the middle of four hunters. There was no examination there, he knew his personal guards inside out, and he trusted them with his life.

They were all fully armed, sitting in several armed drop ships, waiting for the operation to begin.

_UNSC INFINITY TERMINAL B-9241253_

BEGINNING LOCALIZED SCAN…

SEARCHING FOR SIGNS OF CRYOGENIC INDUCED STASIS…

TEST FAILED

SEARCHING FOR LOCALIZED SLIPSPACE RUPTURE…

TEST FAILED

RECEIVING NEW DATA…

DATA RECEIVED

BEGINNING LOCALIZED GROUND CRUST ANALYZING…

TERRAIN ANALYZED

SEARCHING FOR UNUSUAL CONCENTRATIONS OF ALL MOLECULES…

HIGH CONTENT OF PURIFIED Fe HAS BEEN DISCOVERED IN THE NEARBY POPULATION

HIGH AMOUNTS OF ENRICHED URANIUM DISCOVERED WARNING, POPULATION SHOWS POTENTIAL SIGNS OF NUCLEAR TECHNOLOGY PROCEED WITH CAUTION

HIGH CONCENTRATIONS OF CARBON DISCOVERED

HIGH… CANCELING SCAN…

ANALYZING CARBON CONCENTRATIONS

CARBON CONCENTRATION HAVE BEEN CONFIRMED TO BE VERY DENSE, POTENTIALLY A LARGE DIAMOND

LOCKING ON TO CARBON SOURCE…

IMAGE LOCKED…

ZOOMING IN…

CLEANING IMAGE…

IMAGE CLEANED…

ANALYZING…

PACKAGE CONFIRMED, BEGINNING OPERATION PHOENIX REBORN

_UNSC INFINITY HANGAR BAY_

As one, the five pelicans lifted off, and dropped, free falling through miles of atmosphere towards the landing zone. Their job was to defend the site, until the medics and their equipment arrived and had revived the man.

Honestly, John wasn't sure why they were going through the trouble of reviving the single man. He might have been important to Eragon, but the boy had to put the past behind him. It would only be detrimental to him at this point. He himself had lost everyone he had known, up until he was reunited with Blue Team, and then subsequently detached to accompany the _Infinity _on her mission.

Thus, John naturally began to withdraw, distancing himself from everyone around him. It was best, so that he could focus on the objective, even as his comrades were struck down beside him and even the other way around. He had been too lucky for his own good, and sooner or later, it was bound to run out.

The pelicans began to glow a bright orange, signifying their entry into the atmosphere. Within minutes, engines flared, and their descent halted, slowing them down as their rear doors opened, showing massive sandstone cliffs lined with caves. They touched down around the way-point and John sprinted out with Crimson, swinging his assault rifle around, ready to fire at the slightest notion of any hostile presence. Without pausing in his relentless sweeping, he ran for the nearest piece of cover, a large sandstone rock that protruded above the ground. He ducked behind it, watching as his allies ducked under, a second after him.

A team of marines that had gone with them brought out their entrenching tools, beginning work on a more effective fortification.

_Above Gil'ead_

Eragon gritted his teeth, as he and Saphira flew over the city. He heard the cries of alarm, and the hurried jingle of weapons and armor. His job would be to distract the Empire's men, until the extraction team could entrench themselves, and defend themselves against a large assault with some degree of order. Diving down, Sapira let loose a torrent of flames, igniting napalm and plasma, and spewing out a peculiar conglomeration of blue and orange flames. Eragon found the sight mesmerizing, and beautiful, as he watched the blue and orange twist, and dance around each other, before the orange separated, falling to the ground as liquid fire, sticking to anything and everything that was unfortunate enough to be in its way.

Eragon gritted his teeth against the harsh screams of the dying men carried up to him and Saphira. It saddened him to kill so many helpless men, even if they were his enemies.

_Do not mourn them, mourn those who are still alive, and enslaved under the Black King's hand,_ Saphira murmured through their connection _It is better to be dead than alive, and enslaved._

_That does not mean that I have to enjoy killing them, _retorted Eragon.

Saphira seemed to think for a while, before banking to the right. A hidden flap on her belly clicked open, releasing a hail of gunfire down on the disorganized and surprised defenders.

_Would you rather we leave and abandon your wish to save Brom? Or even worse, allow our currently unprepared allies to die, simply because you did not wish to kill?_

_Of course not Saph-_

_Then let it be. The Empire is our enemy, and for the sake of peace, the leaders must be destroyed._

_Then why do we not fly straight to Galbatorix's capital, and kill him there? The UNSC can drop us down anywhere we want. We could end this war now._

_Then what? What will the citizens of the Empire think? They have no proof that the Varden won't become another Galbatorix. Some may even utilize the confusion of the lack of a king to rebel, and we would be back to where we started, except now, we would be forced to continue Galbatorix's dark work, simply so the continent won't dissolve into complete anarchy._

_I guess you are right._

A puff of smoke rose from Saphira's jaws, washing over Eragon's face-plate. _Of course I'm right._

Despite himself, Eragon smiled. He would not enjoy killing the soldiers, but he knew in his heart that it was the right thing to do. Reaching behind him, Eragon flipped off the cover of the compartment behind him. He reached in, and pulled out several devices.

The occasional bomb joined the waves of bullets and fire.

_Outskirts of Gil'ead: The Diamond Tomb_

The last of the trenches were finally completed without incident. John and his team were fully entrenched on the hillside, and waiting for phase 2.

"Preparations are complete, awaiting medical team from _Infinity_," John reported.

"Affirmative, medical team is incoming."

As he turned his attention back to his surroundings, John saw the distant figure of Eragon and his dragon banking away from the now burning city.

_This must have been what a ship master felt like during the Great War, with the massive gap in technology._ Thought John, _those soldiers stood no chance._

"Incoming!"

The cry jerked John out of his musings. He shook his head angrily; he was a Spartan for God's sake! He should be focused on the mission, not thinking pointless thoughts!

He scanned the horizon quickly for any signs of the enemy. However, he couldn't see a single mouse, let alone an army marching in for the kill.

Behind him, a heavy machine gun spun to life, the individual retorts blending together to form a single continuous roar.

At the same time, he saw a massive red blob appear directly over him on his motion tracker. His head snapped up to see an animal that seemed like a dragon version of King Tut gliding overhead. On its back were several men, dressed in brown robes. A blazing green ball of light the similar to a fuel rod slammed down, two feet away from John. Even at that distance, the projectile took down a quarter of his shields.

John didn't pause to think, snapping his battle rifle upwards. He unconsciously led the target, and fired before anyone could react.

The beast was flying so high, that no marine marksmen and only a handful of ODSTs would be able to pull of the shot, even with a sniper rifle. The UNSC would normally employ anti-aircraft guns with computer tracking and guidance systems to engage targets at the range the beast was at. However, for a Spartan, it was a shot that was as easy as snapping the neck of an unsuspecting grunt. The bullets flew true, and the beast screeched in agony, as it spiraled out of control, one wing flapping uselessly, while the other hung limp at its side.

The beast's fate was sealed, as the pelican carrying the medical crew arrived, three high caliber rounds from the nose gun rendering the flying mummy to shreds.

The pelican wasted no more time, sweeping downwards, and depositing the crew. It remained, hovering a few hundred feet above them, providing recon, and suppressive fire to the ground team.

On John's faceplate, a countdown timer began, showing two hours. Glancing at it for no more than a second, he returned his attention back to the terrain in front of him, as chips of diamond sprayed out from behind him, courtesy of the drill used to cut through the rock.

"Ground team, enemy contacts confirmed, coming from the city. Estimated force is over a hundred thousand, be careful down there," the pilot of the pelican reported.

_A hundred thousand? _Thought John in shock,

_That's a surprise, they know that we wouldn't come knocking down their back door for a very good reason, and anything that is good for us is bad for them. That's why they are trying so desperately to stop us. _Cortana's voice drifted over his inner speakers.

John nodded to himself, it made sense after all.

_By the way, I would suggest that you go out and stall them a bit, there are too many enemies coming our way to simply stand and wait. If you don't, well it won't be pretty._

After hearing the AI's advice, John turned around and told everyone Cortana's plan. The leading officer nodded slowly. "Do what you can Chief, stall them out as long as you can, but don't go too far, HIGHCOM will have my ass for breakfast when we return if you don't come with us. Actually, Fireteam Crimson will go with you, back you up a bit and make sure that you get home in one piece."

John nodded, before turning around, and facing the dark mass of Imperial soldiers before him. He was facing an entire army, backed up by a single squad of Spartan IVs. To him, it was hardly a fair fight.

His faceplate hid his smirk as he brought his SAW to bear. He did what everyone else would do when outnumbered a hundred thousand to one. He jumped off the sheer side of the cliff.

He could hear the five other Spartans following his example behind him. Extending his arms, his descent slowed down and stabilized.

Twenty feet above the ground, his jet pack flared, blasting dust around him in a twenty foot radius. Landing on the ground, he began to sprint forward, trusting that the Spartan IVs would follow. He raised his weapon as he ran, and took aim on the move. The weapon in his hands roared to life, cutting down the leading troopers like a hot knife through butter. _One hour, forty-five minutes left._ He spared a glance at the top of the cliff, and took note of the lack of any drilling going on anymore. Either the drill had just broken down, or the objective had been reached. Judging by the inwards rush of the medics, as the engineers rushed back, it was the latter of the two.

John ducked just in time to avoid a halberd that had been thrust at him with respectable force. For an normal human. He grabbed the shaft, and yanked, pulling the wielder off balance. Luckily for him, he decided to let go, drawing a sword and preparing to strike at John's head. He never got the chance, as the halberd he had been previously using split his skull open. John pulled the now bloodied weapon out with his left hand, still firing with his right. He spun around, creating a half-circle of destruction as the bullets impacted several imperial troopers. He smashed his left hand containing the halberd into the shield of a soldier. The shaft cracked, splinters flying in all directions. The shield fared even worse; it didn't function as the designer had intended, as it split in two. The man hiding behind it became a mere memory. One half of the shield clattered to the ground, but the other one was propelled outward, spinning wildly, before it was suddenly stopped by an imperial soldier. John spun around, his limbs sending enemies flying. Dropping a present on the ground for the excitement of the enemy, he rushed back, bashing in the heads of several men as he emptied another clip into the dwindling enemy force. _One hour, thirty minutes_.

On the cliff, the marines watched in awe, as the dark mass split in six different locations, each one indicating the presence of a Spartan. Some of the men had stopped to try and take them out, but the majority was still on course for the cliff. Already, grapnels were rattling against the side of the cliff, many slipping downwards, as the sheer number of grapnels interfered with each other. However, many managed to find a hold, and soon, the cliff was swarming with silver figures, as the weak sunlight glinted off their armor. Several marines ran forward, carrying a flamethrower, and waiting for the first faces to show themselves.

A sergeant of Gil'ead's defensive force grunted as he pulled himself up to the top of the cliff. He was not having a good day, waking up to an enormous dragon laying waste to his city. When it had left, he assumed that he would be free to help repair the damaged areas, and stay within the walls. However, orders from above had removed all notion of repairs, sending the entire garrison out to the cliffs, where there was rumored to be a tomb, cursed by the dragon rider buried within it. Then, he had watched several of his friends die by the hands of the strange metal machines that had jumped from the cliffs. Now, he was storming the cliffs, like it was a castle. He had a firm belief that the best place to storm a castle was at the rear, where he could avoid the oil and rocks sent onto the heads of the attackers. However, since he had received his 'promotion' he was forced to the front, to rally the men and push up with them.

He looked up, noticing with relief that the top was only a foot above him.

He hauled himself to the top, grunting with relief as the strain in his arms was relieved. Preparing to pull his sword, he noticed a figure dressed in a suit of armor colored pitch black, and holding a bulky backpack with a long tube pointing at him. He seemed to grin, before uttering two, terrifyingly short words.

"Good Night"

His vision was engulfed in flames as he tumbled backwards, screaming in agony as the fire intensified, sticking to every surface it touched. He tumbled backwards off the cliff. Grasping desperately, he managed to grab onto the hook of his grapnel. However, another wave of pain caused him to twitch involuntarily, shaking the hook free, and sending it sliding downwards, loaded with men.

His agony suddenly stopped when he landed on a spear back on the ground.

John looked at his timer _Thirty minutes_ he thought. He had rejoined the defenders on the cliff, due to the lack of ammunition. It had been a long, drawn out fight. However, the medics were almost finished, and preparing the final stages of the process.

_Click_. John swore as his magazine ran dry right as a man leapt at him, screaming his hate. Without thinking, he brought his left hand up, pulling the end of the gun towards himself in a short and savage punch. The end of the grip smashed across the man's helmet, splitting it, and sending him stumbling back over the edge. He reached down to reload his empty weapon, but stopped before his hand even twitched. He swore again. He was out of ammunition, again. He ejected the spent clip in his gun and threw it at the next face that showed itself. It punctured the helmet and the skull, killing the man instantly, as he holstered his weapon, and pulled out his magnum. Looking at it distastefully, he wondered how it had gotten weaker since the battle of Reach_. _Weren't upgrades supposed to _improve_ the performance? They had even removed the scope for God's sake! However, it would have to do for now.

Two beams of green plasma flew past him, melting the cliff's edge, and incinerating a row of men. He turned around to see the two hunter pairs that had followed Thel into the battle. They rushed forwards, scattering men left and right as they attempted to escape the two juggernauts. Thel himself was even more terrible, as he slashed and swung his sword, faster than anyone could react. Every once in a while, Thel's new armor would spark, sending beams of hard light at the enemy, impaling anyone stupid enough not to move away.

_Fifteen minutes_. The medics scrambled over each other, as they finished healing the objective. They began injecting nutrients back into the package's bloodstream, as the heart rate monitor began to beep.

John emptied his clip into another group of enemies. Of the seven fired, two missed. John gave out a noise of disgust. The accuracy of the pistol was unacceptable. Ejecting the clip into one man's eye, he slapped a new cartridge in, and continued firing.

_Five minutes_. Up above, the pelican that had been providing aerial support swooped down, the back hatch opening, as the machine gun on it roared to life, helping the ground troops clear a landing zone.

_One minute. _ A distant roar was heard by everyone, as the dragon and rider that had been terrorizing the garrison of Gil'ead returned. Twin trails of smoke sped from the dragon, detonating on the ground with devastating accuracy and power.

_Thirty seconds_. The imperial troops courage finally broke, as individuals began streaming back to the relative safety of the city. Soon, the entire force was in full retreat , leaving three quarters of their numbers dead behind him, without a single scratch on their enemy to show their efforts.

_Ten._ Saphira landed with a boom on the cliff, returning to what had been Brom's final resting place. The diamond that she had formed was now scattered across the ground, producing a peculiar crunching noise as she crawled forward.

Eragon didn't wait, as he hurtled himself off the saddle, and almost collided with a medic.

_Nine._

_Eight._

_Seven._

_Six._

_Five._

_Four._

_Three._

_Two._

_One._

_Zero._

A/N: Yay! another chapter is out! :) Next one is coming soon, and it will be MUCH smoother than this one. It was more of a stopgap, and transition to bring Brom back than an actual chapter... However, Helgrind comes next, and it will be _quite_ different from Paolini's version... After all, three riders and two dragons are much better than one! Oh, I suppose you can throw in a couple of bombs, and if you're lucky, maybe a few particularly _devious_ devices will make their debut in the next chapter! Hope you guys enjoyed, and stay tuned!


	17. The Maw

Disclaimer: I do not own Eragon or Halo.

A/N: as promised, here is the next chapter! (Yay! its on time for once! :D) It's the first half of the storming of Helgrind (Big surprise... That was known in the last A/N...) Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy, and as always, I'm open to suggestions, and ways to improve the story (And my writing lol.) Hopefully, there aren't any mistakes, and if there are, feel free to flame me! (Just kidding, please tell me nicely as you guys always do) anyway, I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Chapter 17: The Maw

Brom awoke to a pleasant sound. It was rhythmic, and strangely comforting. Like a heartbeat. _No, not a heartbeat._ It had a higher tone. His attention was diverted as his nose began to work again, bringing with it a sharp smell unlike any he had ever encountered before.

He mentally cursed at himself, angry that he had not taken safety precautions, and was currently unaware of anything around himself. He quickly spread out his mind, searching for any hostile presences around him.

Sensing that he was alone, he relaxed slightly. Slowly, he opened his eyes and saw a blank, featureless ceiling above him.

_ It was perfect_ he thought, wondering how it had been done. _Am I dead?_

As he had that thought, past events rushed up to him. He remembered the mad dash out of Gil'ead. The Ra'zac finding their camp. The knife, spinning in a flashing disk towards Eragon. Diving in front of it. Then, nothing.

_ Maybe I am dead, maybe this is the afterlife._ At that thought, he turned his head weakly, and saw a strange device which glowed a soft blue. A single line ran through the center, rhythmically jumping up and down, in time to the noise.

Groaning, he tried to sit up. He stopped as his vision liquefied, bringing a wave of nausea, and a pounding headache.

As it subsided, Brom slowly sat up again, noting the strange tubes that were attached to his skin.

A bolt of fear shot through him. Experience had taught him that it was not wise to let strange substances inside of the body, no matter how harmless it seemed. In a panic, he ripped the tubes out, and noted the clear liquid that seeped from the tip.

The noise, which had been a calming background to his current environment, turned into a piercing shriek, which continuously blared out of hidden sources. It ground on his nerves, and brought back his headache, tenfold. Dimly, he noted a hiss beside him, as what had been a slab of grey steel slid aside like it weighed nothing. Several humans dressed in strange clothing ran in, shouting to themselves, as they swarmed over the device.

Before Brom could decide whether to incinerate the group, another figure ran in, panic written across his face. A figure which calmed Brom down slightly.

He saw Eragon sprinting into the room, his face tight with worry as his eyes scanned over the situation in an instant.

Seeing Brom blearily looking around, tense and ready to strike even in his weakened state brought a smile to Eragon's face, as his shoulders slumped in relief.

Beside him, the medics also realized what had happened, and calmed down, moving to pack up the tubes and monitor, seeing as the patient no longer needed life support. They would still be keeping an eye on his vital signs though. Thank God for nanobots.

Finishing, they left the room, leaving Brom alone with Eragon.

_Surda, on the border of the Empire: One week later_

Roran was at the end of his patience. He had waited for Eragon as he had been asked to. He had patiently waited for Eragon to bring up the subject of rescuing Katrina, but he had been following the old bard Brom around for a week now. He hadn't even talked to Roran since their last conversation at all!

_Every hour I waste here waiting for Eragon to come to his senses is another hour Katrina has to suffer_ he thought. Steeling his nerves, he walked out of his tent, heading to where Eragon and Saphira slept each night.

Walking through the camp, Roran paused to exchange polite greetings with the people from Carvahall. Finally, he stood before Eragon's tent uncertainly wondering how he was supposed to knock. He had originally counted on Saphira to be there to send for Eragon. However, she was not there.

His problem was solved when Eragon walked out from behind the tent. He froze in surprise when he saw Roran standing in front of his tent, glaring at him.

"Good morning, would you like to come in to talk?" He asked.

Roran didn't reply, simply nodding stiffly.

Sweeping the flap back, Eragon entered the tent, with Roran following.

Eragon interrupted his cousin just as he was about to begin his tirade.

"If you are here to ask about Katrina, I am pleased to say that we managed to locate her, along with the lair of the remaining Ra'zac."

Roran froze in shock, his retort dying on his tongue. Sheepishly, he laughed nervously, his anger dissipating instantly.

"I thought you had forgotten all about it, with Brom being brought back to life and all."

Eragon turned to him with a serious expression, "He may be back, but we still have problems that no one can solve yet. One of them is the extraction of Katrina."

"But I thought you found her? Why would it be difficult to rescue her? We managed to get Brom back from the Empire, didn't we?

Eragon frowned, "Yes, but it's slightly different in Katrina's case. First, she is being held in Helgrind; preliminary scans done by the UNSC show that it's a single, giant rock, crisscrossed with tunnels and dead ends. It could take years to find her if we don't know what we're doing. Also, it's heavily fortified. Apart from the Ra'zac, we estimate there are over ten thousand troops in the thing; it would take an army to dislodge them. Even I couldn't do it alone. Second, Katrina isn't like Brom who could at least still manage to dodge arrows if worst comes to worst. Katrina isn't able to do that, and the cramped tunnels make it almost to dodge even for elves. I'm sure that you aren't willing to risk her life, simply to get her out a week earlier."

Roran sighed, "Well, I don't care if Galbatorix himself is there, if you aren't ready by the end of the week, I'm going alone."

Eragon's smile widened, "We can go right now. Actually, I was just about to go get you, and fill you in on the proceedings."

Roran was instantly alert, as he realized that finally, after half a year, his waiting would finally end.

He ran out of the tent, elated. He started to run towards his tent, but ended up careening into a giant pillar.

"Well, what do we have here?" spoke a decidedly female voice, sounding completely wrong from the massive figure.

Roran hurriedly got up and apologized, recognizing the Spartan that wiped out entire armies during the Battle of the Burning Plains.

He received a nod, before the giant turned his attention forward again, heading for Eragon's tent.

Roran watched as he opened the flap, then continued to run for his equipment. At long last, He would soon be reunited with his beloved.

_Eragon's Tent_

John entered the tent, and saw Eragon packing for the mission they were about to undertake.

"Oh, hello Chief, why are you here?" Asked Eragon. He seemed confused by John's presence.

"The Captain told me that you needed help on your retrieval mission, Thel and I have been chosen to make sure you come back alive." Replied John shortly.

"Aye, then you'll join Roran and I at the landing grounds about an hour from now?"

Before John could reply, the tent burst open, revealing a grinning Murtagh, followed by Brom.

"Think that I'll let you go alone, little brother?" asked Murtagh.

Eragon stood up in shock, turning from Murtagh to Brom.

"Murtagh? I thought they were keeping you imprisoned, why are you here?"

"I followed your advice, and I managed to change my true name with Nasuada's help. They let me free after that." Murtagh said, then frowned, "although they threatened me with much worse than death if I was seen fighting for Galbatorix again."

Mutely, Eragon nodded and turned to Brom, "Why are you here? I thought you were going to go away for a few weeks, and get your strength back?"

"Hmph, that can wait, I didn't let you go galloping off alone last time boy, and I won't allow it this time. Like it or not, you're going to have to deal with me for this trip. I think its half-brained and foolish, but I'll go to make sure you come out in one piece."

John saw a smile split Eragon's face as he turned around to leave, and his final thought was that Helgrind would be seeing a hell of a show soon.

_Helgrind, Three Days Later_

Rain dripped off John's visor, as he crouched among several rocks half a mile away from the massive mountain. He was thankful of the rain, it masked movement, and helped blend in the distortions of his active camouflage that the engineers just couldn't seem to get rid of.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he turned around to take in the small makeshift campsite that had been set up to accommodate an elite, five men, and two dragons.

Eragon and Murtagh had left a short while ago to scout out the mountain with their own eyes. The orbital equipment deployed by the UNSC were fine, but it always helped to confirm it with one's own eyes. Settling himself down on the rock, he closed his eyes and let sleep overtake him.

Eragon sighed, still unused to Murtagh's presence beside him after so long. He turned around to see his face grinning up at him.

"What's the matter?" he asked teasingly, "scared that I'll disappear?"

Eragon shook his head, casting around his mind for a topic to discuss with his companion.

"Don't you have a weapon?" asked Eragon, noticing the lack of a sword at Murtagh's hip.

"My sword was lost in Thorn and Saphira's duel during the Battle of the Burning Plains, and I haven't found a suitable replacement yet." Replied Murtagh.

Eragon hesitated, not sure of his next actions. _Should I?_ he asked Saphira.

_I think you must, that way, there will be less chance of him being recaptured by Galbatorix. _She hesitated, as if unsure whether she should continue. _Also, Zar'roc should have been inherited by Murtagh anyway. By all rights, it is his sword._

Eragon was shocked at the revelation. It was true he realized, Murtagh was the elder brother, so technically, the sword belonged to Murtagh, not himself.

Steeling his resolve, Eragon unclipped the blood red sword from his belt, and handed it to a shocked Murtagh, sheath first.

"A-are you sure?" asked Murtagh, shocked at the handle before him.

Eragon nodded, "It would be better for you to be armed, it will prevent you from being recaptured. I can defend myself with magic I learned from the Elves if I must. Zar'roc belongs to you anyway. After all, you are the elder brother."

Murtagh grinned again, wonderingly "I am aren't I. Well, if you put it that way, I'll take the sword." He reached out and grasped the blade, attaching it to his belt.

He hesitated, and then continued, "Thanks Eragon, I guess I owe you one, don't I?"

Eragon grinned, confident that Zar'roc had finally found its rightful owner. "You can owe me later, for now, let's concentrate on the little hill we have in front of us."

Murtagh grinned in response, the weight of Zar'roc already feeling like second nature at his waist.

_Helgrind, Morning_

Despite the rainy night, the day came bright and clear, displaying the terrible beauty of the mountain.

As usual, John awoke well before dawn. He leapt up at Roran's shout of surprise, then relaxed, as he realized that Roran had been startled by his movement. Simultaneously, Thel leapt upwards, pulling up his legs into a roll, as he uncoiled from his original position in the blink of an eye, carbine loaded and seeking a target.

Blearily, Eragon and Murtagh rose, wondering what was happening for a split second, before they too jumped up readying themselves for a fight, only to see Roran clutching his chest, and gasping as he glared at John.

"Don't scare me like that!" he gasped, struggling to get his breathing back to normal.

John shrugged, if the sentry had been surprised, it must have meant that he was not fully alert. He mentally noted to give Roran the first watch next time he was with him.

Apologizing, John began to ready his equipment. Suddenly, he stood up, scanning the horizon. "Where's Brom?" he asked.

"Here" came the gruff reply. A bush began to shake revealing the aging rider as he walked in, carrying the carcass of a deer.

Saphira followed behind him.

"I took the liberty of hunting for us, so we might be able to storm Helgrind on something more than old rations." Said Brom, as he pulled out a knife, and began to hack at the joints of the deer.

Soon everyone, minus John and Eragon were eating from the roasting animal. Eragon took one look at the deer and muttered about finding some edible plants.

John simply let his suit inject nutrients directly into his bloodstream, still not trusting the waste disposal system.

After a short amount of time, Thel stood up and raised his arm. A dark void appeared, swirling inwards towards itself.

John rose up from where he had been resting, and holstered his shotgun, unsheathing his combat knife as he prepared to enter the slipspace portal. Taking a deep breath, he dived forwards, bringing his knife up to block any slash that might come his way when he exited.

_Prison Cells, Helgrind_

The two guards didn't even realize their throats had been cut. They simply crumpled where they were standing. Their facial expression didn't even have time to change, before it was too late.

John nodded to himself in satisfaction as he let the two men drop. Turning, he swiftly activated his active camouflage in case anyone had heard his entry via slipspace.

Outside the room, two more men were standing guard.

"Hey Richard, did you hear that?" asked a guard nervously.

"Hmmn? Huh? What?" asked the other grumpily.

"That noise, did you hear it?"

"Yes," came the clipped reply.

"What?! What is it?" asked the other as he turned around to open the door to check.

"It was the sound of your brain overloading. Again."

"Oh," said the other guard relaxing as he realized they weren't under attack.

A few minutes later, he realized the implications of his companion's words. "Hey!" he snarled, turning on his companion. "Take that back!"

The other guard had managed to fall asleep again during the short period of silence, and was jerked awake by the shouting. Sighing, he resigned himself to ignoring the loud ranting from his companion.

John sighed in relief, as the guard turned back to his conversation with his companion. He had seen the handle of the door begin turning, before the other spoke again. As quick as he was, he could not have managed to hide the bodies of the two he had slain.

He waited for another minute to make sure they weren't coming inside, and began to set up the second part of the plan. Behind him, the slipspace portal opened again, having charged itself back to full operational capacity. Brom stumbled through, swearing as he fell face first onto the ground.

Outside, the original guard was just about to comment on the latest of strange sounds that occurred behind the door, before deciding that it wasn't worth his companion's anger. He put it down to a mouse.

"I would rather you toss me into a chamber with Galbatorix himself, before you force me to go through such a method of travel again." Muttered Brom, as his stomach gave another dry heave. Suddenly, that extra piece of meat he had taken for breakfast didn't seem like such a good idea anymore.

John shrugged unsympathetically, readying the explosive charge designed to cause panic and chaos while Eragon and the rest came in through the cave on top of the mountain.

Stepping back, he admired his handiwork, before readying his assault rifle and pressing himself to the side of the door.

Outside, Eragon and his team were circling high above, ready to dive downwards at the signal. It came in the form of a very large shock wave as the shaped charge detonated underground, sending debris flying, and creating mass confusion throughout the complex.

Wordlessly, the two dragons dived downwards, towards the twin beams of blue plasma as Thel deactivated his camouflage, spraying superheated gas at anything moving. Without pausing to wait for backup, he charged forward. The men inside the complex were terrified, as they ran to the prison wing, only to be scythed down like wheat by beams of plasma courtesy of Thel.

The two guards were lucky, the explosion had missed them, spraying rock and debris outwards, and tossing them down the corridor like a child would throw paper airplanes. However, their luck ended there, as two smooth pebbles hissed from behind the smoke, and embedded themselves in the skulls of the two men.

Reinforcements quickly arrived, to secure the prisoners. They stood in a semicircle warily, as they prepared to rush in the clearing smoke. However, John was quicker, as he opened fire from his SAW. He was seriously loving the thing, as it was light enough to carry like an assault rifle, yet still packing more than enough firepower.

The rounds tore through the waiting soldiers, sending them stumbling backwards, shocked and fearful of the staggering hail of bullets that whizzed overhead, and sparked on the stone walls. At the rear of the group, one of the soldiers cried out in pain as a chip of rock, knocked free by a stray bullet embedded itself in his eye. His agony was ended when another, larger rock tore a hole in his chest, rupturing his heart.

John didn't even bother to reload, whipping out his shotgun, and sprinting forward, under the cover of Brom's rocks, which punctured flesh and steel alike with deadly accuracy. John pumped the action and fired, spraying tungsten-carbide pellets down the tunnel. Several men fell screaming as holes appeared in their armor. Those closest to his muzzle were shredded beyond recognition, as the pellets devastated anything and everything before him.

On the other end of the mountain, Thel was having the time of his life, as his suit warmed up to full combat capacity. He had recently unlocked several new features of his combat skin, and by the forerunners, they seemed to be unlimited in their uses! He rushed at a soldier, who raised his shield in an attempt to stop the mad charge of the giant alien. Instead, it simply disappeared in a swirling void. Backpedaling, he desperately tried to find the location of his opponent. He never noticed the energy sword embedding itself through his back.

Behind him, one of his comrades swung his sword in an attempt to cleave Thel from head to foot. Instead, another slipspace portal appeared. Without warning, his sword went through it. The portal opened behind the swordsman. The swordsman ended up killing himself without an idea on how it happened. Before anyone could do more, the alien disappeared, leaving only a glowing ball on the ground. Nobody survived to tell the tale.

Roran rushed forward, followed by Eragon and Murtagh. They ignored the cries of the men around them as they sprinted forward, down the predetermined tunnels. Anyone who stood in their way was killed without mercy, some by Roran's hammer, others cut in half by Murtagh, and even more falling as holes appeared on their bodies from Eragon's borrowed magnum.

They were outrun by Thel, who sprinted forward, opening two slipspace portals. An explosion rocked the mountain, as Saphira fired one of her missiles into the portal.

Thel grinned, as the newly reconfigured tunnel dropped them off straight where they wanted to be. Rolling forward, he slashed at the two surprised men, as they hurriedly turned around from the rock they had been cowering behind from the bullets fired by John. Uncertainly, some men turned around to face the new threat that had suddenly appeared behind them. They stood up quickly, without thinking. Their fates were sealed, as a fresh wave of bullets cut them down mercilessly. A rock embedded itself beside Thel, a fraction of a second too late to kill anyone. Swiftly, Eragon's room ran into the prison complex.

Roran sighed in relief, there were more than a hundred cells, but with the preliminary scans, they would not have to search every single one. He rushed to the cell that had been identified as the one holding Katrina, and raised his hammer to smash it down. The only warning he got was the gleam of steel as John's knife swung through his hammer, before the punch sent the heavy head flying into a wall.

The sudden decrease in weight knocked Roran off balance, as his full-bodied swing turned into a tumbling fall, resulting in him hitting his head on the iron door. Swearing, he turned angrily to the Spartan, "What in the blazes was that for?" he snarled at the armored figure.

John sighed. "I know that you want to rescue the target, but that cell isn't the largest, you would have crushed her if you knocked it down."

Roran stopped, realizing with a shock that he was right. He snarled again, this time in frustration as he wondered how to free Katrina.

John ignored the fuming man, and walked to the door. Holstering his gun, he cracked his knuckles before punching the door. His fist went through the soft iron with no resistance whatsoever. He grabbed the door before it could fall, and with a terrifying display of strength, he ripped it from its hinges, and threw it down the hall, striking sparks, as the door slid to a stop, flattening a surviving guard in the process. Turning around, he saw the package for the first time, as Roran rushed to the cowering girl, and began to smother her with his hugging, and worrying.

"R-Roran?" asked Katrina, unable to believe that she was finally free after her ordeal.

John turned away from the young couple, giving them space as he readied his gun to fight his way to their second objective. He allowed Roran to cover Katrina with care and love for a grand total of twenty seconds before interrupting the joyous reunion.

"I hate to break it to you two, but we have company, it would be best if you were to leave immediately." He spoke quietly but sharply.

Roran growled as he was broken out of his bliss of being reunited and reluctantly acknowledged John's point. "I guess it can wait until after we're all out." He said.

Thel nodded, forming a portal, and shoving the two through, before a grinning Murtagh and Brom followed them to "keep them out of trouble and mischief." After all, they were in hostile territory, and sore legs would seriously hamper their retreat, as the dragons would have to slow down, to alleviate the pain.

They fell out gasping and coughing, desperately trying to retain their lunch, as the ground swam underneath them. Beside them, Roran and Katrina weren't faring much better, Roran had just finished emptying his stomach, and Katrina was curled up in a ball with her eyes shut tight, and shaking as she too tried desperately to keep her meager breakfast in. Within moments, she too lost her battle, as she turned sideways and hurled the contents of her stomach beside her.

As they finally recovered from the effects of slipspace travel, Roran shakily stood up. "Where's Eragon and the other two? He asked, scanning his surroundings slowly"

Gasping, Brom stood up, leaning heavily on his knee. The fighting had taken a great toll on him, and the short journey through slipspace did not help. "They stayed behind to kill the Ra'zac, so they would no longer trouble the Varden." He said, still gasping for breath.

Roran growled, "I had hoped to be able to take a hand in their deaths," he said, forgetting about his stomach temporarily."

Murtagh shook his head, "You would have held them back," seeing Roran open his mouth to argue, Murtagh pressed on. "You are slower than them, and your weapon is now a useless stick in your hands, how would you have helped them kill the Ra'zac? Eragon would have his hands full keeping you safe. You will have to settle for revenge being dished out by your cousin and the others."

Roran nodded, reluctantly conceding Murtagh's point.

Inside Helgrind, Eragon turned to face Thel and John, as the three stood in a triangle in the room. Nodding to each other, they once again raised their weapons. Thanks to one of Thel's Hunters, the worms had managed to tag the Ra'zac without being discovered. Their location was no longer a secret, and from the signal, they knew the Ra'zac were going exactly where they wanted. Directly at the trio. Grimly, they readied their weapons and walked out of the room. Calmly, Eragon waited in the hallway in front of the two legendary soldiers. At last, revenge was here. At last, his uncle could rest in peace, knowing he was avenged.

A/N: And it's done! For those who are going to object to the use of slipspace, and the high amounts of radiation that it gives off, It's a known feature to be mastered by the forerunners, seen by their use in the Promethean Knights. Also, there were multiple such portals in use on Reqium, and I didn't see any unshielded marines collapse on the ground from radiation poisoning, so I'm going to assume the localized portals don't produce lethal doses for the purpose of this fic. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and the next one will come along VERY soon!


	18. The Radiance of a Thousand Suns

Disclaimer: I do not own Eragon or Halo.

A/N: Here's the second part of the invasion of Helgrind! (Yay its on time!) Anyway, I just realized that last chapter had the exact same amount of words as chapter 16... strange huh? I hope you enjoy this chapter, and I look forward to your reviews!

Chapter 18: The Radiance of a Thousand Suns

Calmly, John waited behind their makeshift barricade. He tensed when he saw two red dots appear, directly in front of him. Raising his gun, he saw the Arbiter mirroring his action, taking aim at the two enemies in front. He was caught off guard, as two more hostiles suddenly appeared, directly on top of him. Cursing, he rolled backwards, and squeezed the trigger, the sudden flashes illuminating the two twisted figures in front of them. The bullets didn't penetrate, sparking off an invisible barrier an inch away from the Ra'zac. John didn't have time to reload, as the figure leapt at him, a short sword gleaming as it was withdrawn from the folds of the figure's cloak.

Out of instinct, John raised his rifle sideways, intercepting the murderous down stroke. Dropping the gun, he drew his combat knife. Crouching, he realized the other figure dueling with the Arbiter and Eragon at the same time, his blade flickering in the uncertain light cast by Thel's glowing blade. Somehow, the metal didn't seem to be melting, as it nimbly dodged Thel's strikes, and blocked those that it couldn't dodge.

John paid for his inattention as the short stabbing weapon bypassed his shields, due to its slow nature. Thankfully, it was diverted by the ceramic-titanium plate on his chest, leaving nothing more than a scratch. Retaliating, John swung his knife at his enemy, aiming for the jugular vein. However, it was intercepted by the Ra'zac's blade, and his knife flew off course, nicking the edge of the Ra'zac's face.

Withdrawing the blade, John saw a strange, familiar type of blood coating the tip of his blade. Wondering where he had seen it before, he filed it away for later reference, and directed his attention back to the nimble creature in front of him. He raised his blade in time to see the flicker of steel as the Ra'zac's blade met his.

Twisting his wrist, John grabbed his foe's arm, and gave a sharp, savage twist. Ignoring the wet snapping noise, he disengaged his knife, before ramming it forward, aiming for the gut.

The Ra'zac jumped backwards, cradling its right hand, now dripping with blue blood. It spilled onto the ground, staining the dark rock beneath it.

"You are ssstrong, Our lord will treat you verry well ssshould you dessside to join usss…" hissed his opponent.

John didn't bother to reply, choosing instead to sprint at the figure, intent on driving his knife through the alien's ribs.

Desperately, the Ra'zac tossed his sword up, catching it with his unbroken arm, before bringing it downwards in a desperate parry. Sparks flew again, skipping off the grey walled cavern, before disappearing into the dark. The brief flash of light allowed John to notice one crucial detail about his duel with the Ra'zac. A detail no one but a Spartan II could have picked up. In the middle of the blade, There was a tiny nick, with a minuscule crack running down the blade horizontally.

Disengaging once again, John swung his blade in one final swing. He saw the Ra'zac raise its blade to block. He smirked to himself, as he took aim with his blade once again. This time, he aimed for the small nick in the blade, instead of the Ra'zac itself.

The impact of his knife was enough to send the Ra'zac stumbling back. Keeping pressure on the blade, John pushed his opponent back, one step at a time until the Ra'zac was cornered in front of a wall. Desperately, the Ra'zac raised its wounded hand, and used it to help prop the trembling knife up. It held for a moment, before a fresh wave of energy washed over John. Suddenly, a deafening retort split the room, sending debris down on the combatants. Thel and Eragon stopped in their duel in wonder, as the other Ra'zac did the same. Turning, they froze as they saw John's opponent fall, his blade in pieces, and a knife through his throat.

John didn't waste a second, as he twisted his knife, and then slashed sideways, sending the Ra'zac's blood streaming out of the fatal wound in its neck. Turning his wrist, he jammed the bloodied blade into the Ra'zac's eye, as it gave one final shriek, then fell silent forever.

Slowly, he pulled out his knife, and then started advancing on the other Ra'zac. He was stopped by Thel, as he stared at him seriously.

"Let the other human kill this piece of scum, he will need the closure and peace in the fights to come."

John nodded, and then sheathed his knife, keeping a hand on his pistol as he watched the duel, ready to intervene if needed.

Eragon panted as he dodged the overhead cut by the Ra'zac, who now seemed twice as enraged as before its brother's death. Sliding around the Ra'zac, Eragon began to mold his spell, chanting as fast as he could without mispronouncing a word. He narrowed his eyes as the Ra'zac recovered from its wild and uncontrolled cut, which had been born of anger and desperation.

Slowly, its eyes landed upon him. They glinted in the unnatural light provided by Thel's energy sword, which was still drawn; ready to defend the dueling pair from any soldiers stupid enough to intervene. Thel personally would not have intervened if Eragon was in trouble. Better to die with honor, than live a dishonorable and cowardly life.

The Ra'zac had recovered its previous calm, as it slowly walked to the unarmed Eragon. His two companions would not intervene, that he knew. They were military men, trained and raised from their birth to fight and die with honor. They would not intervene, for it would spoil both their honor, and Eragon's. Thus confident that it wouldn't be interrupted, the Ra'zac stepped forward, speeding up as Eragon neared the end of his spell.

Eragon saw his fast approaching enemy, and grew desperate. He decided to speed up his chanting, taking the risk of mispronunciation. His confidence grew as he managed to near the spell's end without a mistake.

He mentally swore, as he caught a mispronunciation. Swiftly, he ended his spell as he ducked to avoid another slash from the Ra'zac. Desperately, he backpedalled, his hand reaching to his waist for a sword that was not there. As he saw the Ra'zac approaching, he cast a single spell, short and inefficient. Raising his hand, he screamed a single word: "Brisingr!"

Bright blue flames erupted around his hand, caressing them harmlessly as they rushed to Eragon's opponent. The Ra'zac was not as lucky, as it froze, eyes dilating from the sudden increase in light.

Stumbling back, it dropped the sword. Its hands instinctively rose to block out the sudden flash of burning light.

Even John was caught by surprise, as the flames roared forward, temporarily blinding him before his visor adjusted the light, reducing it to a more comfortable level. As it adjusted, John saw the Ra'zac stumbling backwards, desperately outrunning the hungry flames as they flew forward, intent on consuming its target. Then, the Ra'zac tripped on a protruding rock, falling down with a cry of surprise and horror.

The fire petered out inches away from the cowering Ra'zac, no longer fed by Eragon's energy. The Ra'zac jerked its head up in surprise, as it turned up to see Eragon standing over him, with the blade the Ra'zac had dropped in its hurry to get away from the fire. Mentally it smirked, as it pushed itself to a sitting position, noting the look of hate in Eragon's eyes, as painful memories came back to him.

Eragon raised the blade, ready to impale the last Ra'zac, before it spoke up.

"How kind of you, to bring me my blade back to me." It snarled, before raising its arm.

To Eragon's surprise, the blade leapt back into the Ra'zac's hand, as it staggered back up.

Mentally, he cursed. "I need a sword," he thought.

He rolled backwards, a hairsbreadth beneath the Ra'zac's hissing blade. Once again, his hand unconsciously sought his missing blade. Now, it was Eragon's turn to backpedal, as he was forced back by the Ra'zac's blinding offensive. Suddenly, his back ran into a wall, as the Ra'zac hissed in triumph. It leapt forward arm pulling back in a killing blow. Desperately, Eragon grasped the first thing his hand came into contact with, and swung it at the oncoming figure. Through sheer luck, the rock managed to deflect the sword, before continuing onward and cracking the Ra'zac's hard, shell-like exoskeleton. The Ra'zac stumbled back stunned and disoriented. However, it was far from defeated, as it drew a leather pouch from its cloak and swung it at Eragon.

Eragon saw the bottle swung in his direction, and saw the clear liquid come out. Memories came back, of Garrow's death, and the sickly sweet smell of the liquid that did it. He knew instantly what it was, and dove out of the way, narrowly avoiding becoming a burning puddle on the ground.

Seeing that its attack had missed, the Ra'zac began to move forwards again, its arm going up as it casually prepared to stab downwards at the prone Rider.

Eragon gasped in pain as a sharp rock cut his knee, creating a large gash, and impeding his attempts to move. Grabbing another pebble, he rolled over in time to see the Ra'zac begin it's downwards stroke.

Thrusting his arm up, he allowed his wrist to snap as he released the pebble, infusing it with magic in one last, desperate move. He waited for the pain of the blade for a long time, eyes closed, and praying that it would be quick. However, the clatter of a blade caused his eyes to open, as he saw the dead figure on the ground. Blood poured out of the top of its neck, as a clean hole revealed where his rock had hit.

Gagging at the sight of the pooling blood, Eragon scrambled to his feet, careful to avoid the stagnant pools of corrosive oil that had formed after the Ra'zac threw it. He sighed in relief, before turning to the voice of two men.

"They have failed! That's our signal, activate it and run!"

Stumbling, he turned around to see two men running down the tunnels, leaving behind a strange silver ball in the entrance.

Thel barely had time to register the presence of the men, before his combat skin's radiation sensors jumped off the charts. Knowing that it was probably a bad idea to use it so many times in short succession, Thel activated his slip-space catalyst again, and grabbed onto Eragon and John as he dove through.

Within the prison, an old blind man sighed, tired of life. He mentally wished that he would simply die. It would be much easier than continuing to endure in such a harsh place. Sloan's last wish was granted, as the silver ball erupted in a massive detonation of fire and radiation. Even with his eyes removed, Sloan realized that he could see a glow of light. His last thought was that maybe, just maybe he could see his beloved daughter just one more time.

_Outside Helgrind_

Roran turned, as another portal opened, revealing three figures, as they tumbled out.

John and Thel managed to retain their feet, while managing to fight off the effects of unshielded slip-space traveling. On the other hand Eragon simply passed out, as he was already severely weakened by blood loss from his fight with the Ra'zac.

Roran winced at the sight of Eragon's mangled knee, which was bleeding heavily. Half the kneecap stuck out of the wound, displaying the damage that had been sustained.

Before John could move in to set the knee and inject biofoam, Brom moved up and began healing the injury. Turning his grey head, he looked at Murtagh.

"Boy, I'm going to need your energy for this wound."

Wordlessly, Murtagh started to draw upon his energy as he gave it to Brom.

Suddenly, they were distracted as the mountain they had just infiltrated and escaped simply dissolved. Dirt and rock flew up into the air for miles, as a blinding flash of light blinded them all. Katrina and Roran fell back, a wordless cry of fear showing on both their faces.

John reacted instantly, throwing the two unprotected humans towards the gaping figures of Brom and Murtagh. He instantly crouched beside them, driving a bubble shield into the ground, and pressing the activator. A golden bubble surrounded them, as a wave of fire and heat smashed into them at over five hundred miles per hour.

Thel didn't have time to reach John's makeshift shield, and was thus forced to take the brunt of the nuclear blast. Reacting just in time, he used his combat skin to bend gravity to his will, and manipulated a pure gravitational force around him. The gravitational field forced Thel to his knees, as it repelled the majority of the bomb's force. His shields sparked to life, preventing any radiation from reaching him.

Within moments, it was over. John slowly rose to his feet, as he quickly deployed a second bubble shield to prevent radiation from reaching them. Just as the second activated, the first one died out, leaving John with a few seconds to act. He didn't waste his time, as he quickly moved the injured Eragon to Saphira's back, before helping Brom climb up. He simply tossed the two normal humans onto Thorn's back, as Murtagh leapt up onto his back. Quickly, the dragons took off, sensing John's urgency.

Murtagh and Brom understood the need to move as fast as possible the second they left the protective golden bubble. As they passed the strange membrane, both began to notice one the sudden drop in energy as a rarely used ward flared to life, draining their energy at an alarming rate.

Murtagh quickly cast the ward over Roran and Katrina, as he didn't want to expose them to the unknown attack. As the drop in his energy grew higher, Murtagh was forced to draw upon the energy of the eldunari that Galbatorix had given him before he defected due to Nasuada's influence. He winced as his mind entered the eldunari. He hated using their energy, as the madness and strength of ten dragons smashed into his mental barriers. He quickly turned their energy among themselves, using the energy to reinforce his mental barriers, as well as fuel the spell.

John watched as the dragons flew away, then turned and ran to where he and Thel had hid their banshees. He would have preferred a Hornet II, but the upgraded banshees used by the post-war elites were far superior in their dog-fighting capabilities, armed with two human made missile pods, a reverse-engineered forerunner hard light projector, and two plasma cannons. While the Hornet II had a much larger weapons platform, it wasn't as nimble and maneuverable, being the preferred ground-attack vehicle of all races.

The two purple shapes emerged from their hiding spots, and streaked after the dragons above the molten and burning ground where glass was already beginning to form as particles of molten sand separated, and cooled again. In the distance, John could see the city of Dras-Lona, once a proud center of trade and 'culture'. Now, the spires of its church had fallen over, and fires were appearing everywhere. Within a day, many of the residents of the city would fall ill and die of mysterious illnesses. The next few generations of Dras-Leona would be marked by a large number of fatal childbirths and stillborn children, especially considering the already primitive means of delivering children.

John turned his attention away from the sad scene, and pushed the throttle, sending his craft leaping forward after Thel's banshee, already a small speck on the blue backdrop of the sky.

_South of Helgrind_

Eragon groaned as he sat up. Realizing that he was on Saphira, he sat up and took in his surroundings. They were surrounded by puffy white clouds, and judging from the wind, were moving very quickly across the landscape. Turning around he saw Brom sitting behind him, balancing easily on Saphira's broad back.

"About time you woke up boy, you missed the fireworks that Galbatorix sent us." He said.

At Galbatorix's name, Eragon shot up, awake instantly. He scanned around him, but found nothing different from before. He turned around to ask Brom what he was talking about. Then he saw the mushroom cloud, Black and forbidding. It towered above them, showering them with ash. As he watched, the clouds turned darker. Within minutes, they were flying in an unnatural darkness, as night seemed to arrive early. He suddenly noticed his wards draining his strength as they protected him from an unknown attacker. He reacted instantly, reaching down to his sword, before remembering that he had given it to Murtagh. Eragon could see it now, hanging from Thorn's saddle as he flew a few meters in front of him.

He was unprepared for Brom's shout of "Watch out!" and subsequently hit Saphira's back as he flattened himself to her. Saphira reacted instantly, pulling in a wing and diving to her right, while Thorn dove to the left. Eragon breathed a sigh of relief as he saw Murtagh help Roran and Katrina stay on Thorn's back. Turning his attention back to Saphira's attacker, he saw a massive beast, with bat like leathery wings, and razor sharp claws diving downwards towards him. With a shout of surprise, Eragon grabbed his bow, and fired a shot at it without thinking. He swore as the arrow missed by several meters, teaching him how not to shoot at a moving target while not stable himself. Saphira banked to the right, her movements hampered by her two passengers. While she was used to doing many stunts and acrobatics with Eragon on her back, she was still not used to two people, and it hampered her maneuverability. She opened her mouth, releasing a jet of purple flames at her attacker, knowing it would miss. To her surprise, the beast recoiled as the flames burnt a path near it, illuminating the dark background.

Rolling away from the second beast's snapping jaws, Saphira twisted her head around and opened fire, mental signals opening twin compartments on her suit, and releasing a spray of bullets at her target. Just like John's experience, the bullets bounced off harmlessly from a ward and did no harm. Rolling to her right, she swung her tail, using it as a counterweight. It dragged her around, allowing her to face one of her attackers. The spiked tail managed to catch her other opponent off guard, as it drew a deep scratch on its flank. The beast roared in pain, as it turned around and retreated, falling behind her other attacker. The roar sent shivers tingling down her spine, and she had to resist the temptation to turn around and flee.

Increasing her speed, she stretched her claws as she prepared to grapple with her leading foe. The strange equipment used by the UNSC were highly effective and she loved the boosts her suit gave her, but sometimes it was better to go old fashioned, and batter her enemies until they submitted to her power. With a colossal roar, she collided with her opponent.

Eragon's brain shuddered as Saphira collided with her enemy with a massive shock wave. He couldn't do anything but hold on as she grappled with the overgrown bat. However, he could still provide a second pair of eyes.

It was by this means, that Saphira was warned as her foe's companion began to sneak up behind her. Knowing she had little time, she drew her head back, and breathed another torrent of molten flames and plasma at her opponent. The creature shrieked in pain, as it let her go through instinct. Not waiting a second too long, she folded her wings in a steep dive as she sought to evade her other pursuer. From her connection with Eragon, she saw the foe she had burned following in a steep dive of its own. However, its objective was different from hers, as it shot past her and into the lake beneath them. To Saphira's surprise, the fire was not affected by the sudden lack of oxygen. Instead, it vaporized the water, and used the oxygen there to continue burning. Soon, the beast was dead, burnt alive at the bottom of the lake. Finally, almost as if it was waiting for its target to die, the fire burned out, leaving a charred corpse at the bottom of the lake.

Sensing that she was too low, she extended her wings and began her forward momentum again; leveling out so close to the water that her claws created tiny waves on the surface. Flapping to regain altitude, Saphira turned around to size up the situation. She realized that she was in a terrible position, as her final pursuer managed to keep up. On its back, Saphira noticed for the first time a single man dressed in brown robes. She was forced to dive again, as a ball of sparkling green energy passed just over her, just missing the top of Eragon's head.

Eragon yelped, as the ball passed over his head. Instinctively, he flattened himself to Saphira's back again, as he struggled to find a solution to their predicament. He turned he head to see Brom, eyebrows tense, as he grasped a smooth river rock in his palms. As he watched, Brom rose, and threw the rock, sending it at the man with incredible speed.

Almost contemptuously, the beast it was riding on dodged, sending the rock flying uselessly overhead. With shaking hands, Eragon raised his borrowed pistol, and fired. Seven shots flew at the monster with even more force than Brom's stone. However, they too were dodged. He was forced to duck again as another ball of energy flew by overhead. He cursed as a second one, cast right after the first one clipped the end of his pistol, turning it into a useless, twisted piece of metal.

Placing the ruined weapon into Saphira's saddlebags, Eragon began to cast his own spell, wording it specifically to attack several spots that would be fatal to a normal human. However, he cut off the flow of magic almost instantly, seeing it have no effect on the man riding the monster. He was about to try his luck with another spell, when he saw Brom's face stiffen. It was his only warning, as his mind was assaulted by an extremely powerful force. Struggling to repel the attacker, he dimly noted it felt similar to Murtagh's mind, seemingly consisting of many minds, all of whom were raving and struggling to be released. He cursed as he struggled to regain control of his mind, which had been breached when he made his observation. Panting at the effort, he turned to Brom, noticing that he too was under a powerful mental attack. As he made that conclusion, he was forced to down by a fresh attack, even more powerful than the last.

Eragon watched in horror as Saphira suddenly stopped flying, her suit's thrusters working double time to keep them in the air. He realized that she too was under a powerful mental attack. He could only watch as the beast approached. Time seemed to slow, as the beast flew straight at Saphira. Its jaws opened, revealing razor sharp teeth. It flew overhead, aiming for Saphira's neck. With a colossal effort, Eragon managed to break through the mental attack, he began to draw his bow, knowing that it was too late. He knew that any second now, it would be over.

And suddenly, much faster than Eragon envisioned, it was. From the distance, came a peculiar whirring noise, as two golden beams of light impacted the attacker, a split second before the rapid, staccato sounds of plasma fire filled the air around them. The beast died before it could even react. The body sped overhead, growing limp as Eragon watched. Overshooting by several meters, the now dead beast fell to the lake. Eragon heard a splash as the beast joined its companion in the bottom of the lake. Slowly, Saphira began to flap her wings again, her labored movements providing relief to the overtaxed thrusters of her suit.

Behind him, Eragon heard Brom groan as he sat up from his prone position. "That was too close" he muttered to himself.

Nodding in agreement, Eragon turned around to see their saviors.

The two banshees flew overhead, as John and Thel moved forward to check on Thorn.

_Surda's Northern Border, One day later_

They were safe now, as they flew past the border, everyone visibly relaxed. They were home.

During their return journey, Murtagh informed Eragon of what had happened with them. It was relatively peaceful, apart from the initial ambush by the two Lethrblaka. They had sped onward as fast as they could, according to the plan, counting on getting Roran and Katrina to safety. Apart from a few garrisons shouting in surprise and firing arrows at them, it was very quiet. Eragon had let out a sigh of relief upon learning that Roran and Katrina were unharmed. Slowly, the two exhausted dragons descended to the ground, intent on setting up their camp, and resting for the night.

_Urû'baen_

Galbatorix screamed in anger as the court officials cowered before him.

"Weaklings! Cowards! Incompetent fools!" He ranted.

Not being satisfied with the shouting, he grabbed the sword that he had taken from Vrael's dead hands and swung it at the nearest nobleman. His head flew off, separated from its body in a fountain of blood. The others flinched, and cowered back even more, eager not to attract attention. However, Galbatorix was still not finished, as his rose and fell two more times. Two more nobles died that day. Some of the more cowardly nobles broke from the rest, and made a mad dash to the door. Suddenly, they fell flat on their faces, unable to move as Galbatorix forced them to face him.

Grinning madly, his sword, now crimson from the blood of his nobles, rose again, in cadence to the terrified screams and desperate pleading of the captured nobles. Within minutes, everyone in the room was dead, and Galbatorix walked among them, smiling evilly. Calling his guards, he spoke, ignoring their fearful looks, and green faces.

"Find the families of these nobles, I want them all executed, and burned by the end of the day." He snarled, madness filling his voice as he drew himself to his full height.

Swallowing nervously, the guards hurried to obey, rushing out of the room as fast as possible. No one wanted to be alone in the room with the mad king.

_Dras-Leona_

The people of Dras-Leona were terrified. The priests had all fallen to their knees in terror as the mountain of Helgrind erupted in a devastating explosion. Many priests had died, unable to escape due to their self-mutilations, as their dwellings collapsed from the tremendous shock wave of the explosion. Many others had died, as anything remotely flammable had instantly burst into flames. The once proud city was in ruins, as many desperately cried out for help, water, lost family members. The wounded soon filled the streets, as what buildings left standing were already filled. The dead were simply left to rot until they found the time to dispose of the bodies. Many of those who survived were nursing terrible wounds, as even more fires broke out every few hours. Throughout the first weeks, the cries of the dead and dying became a constant for the survivors of Galbatorix's first nuclear detonation.

After a month, many relatively healthy men and women suddenly began to drop onto the ground, wracked with terrible pain and dying within minutes. The people of the city were terrified, as the unknown disease spread without any particular pattern, killing without mercy, or discrimination. Some contracted it even though they had kept well away from the sick; others had spent days with sick family members without a single symptom appearing. Within the month, the city of Dras-Leona was an empty shell, as many fled their homes, searching for another home. Some were lucky, and managed to flee to Surda, where the UNSC quickly recognized the signs of radiation poisoning and began treatment. Soon, word spread of the cure found in Surda. Within six weeks, refugees were streaming towards the border, ignoring the threats and curses of imperial troops. After all, they were already going to die unless they found treatment, and the only cure was to be found in Surda. Chaos and disorganization ran rampant, as many imperial soldiers were killed by mobs, desperate to enter Surda and receive the cure.

_Helgrind_,

Half a league away, in the ruined mountain that used to be the lair of the Ra'zac, and an impenetrable fortress of the Empire, a single stone lay, deceptively smooth, with a light tan coloring. After the detonation of the nuclear bomb, it had lain there, discarded. Days after the explosion, a wet rain began to fall. However, it was unlike any other, the water was unnaturally large, and was burning hot, causing the residents of nearby Dras-Leona to huddle under their meager shelters, attempting to ward off the rain in vain. (A/N: Ah, so great, like my poetry? :P) During the rain, it began to crack. As it cracked, it began emitting a peculiar squealing noise. Within minutes, a weak figure managed to crawl out. It's skin already hardening, as its beak-like mouth began to emit pitiful squeals. The Ra'zac had yet to die out.

_25 thousand light years away, Promethean Monitoring Outpost:_

BEGIN LOG:

NUCLEAR POWER DETERMINED 25,000 LIGHT YEARS AWAY.

PLANET DESIGNATION: A-434711E

SOURCE: ARTIFICIAL NUCLEAR DETONATION SIZE CLASSIFICATION D

BEGINNING ADDITIONAL SCANS…

SPACE-TRAVELLING CRAFT DETECTED UNKNOWN DESIGNATION

SEARCHING DATABASES FOR PLANET A-434711E IN LOCAL ARCHIVES…

PLANET FOUND

RAISING PLANET A-434711E TECHNOLOGY DESIGNATION…

A-434711E NOW CLASSIFIED AS A SPACE-FARING PLANET: CLASS B (BASIC, PRIMITIVE SLIPSPACE TRAVEL DETECTED)

PLANET A-434711E WILL RECEIVE TEST AFTER THE DETECTION OF A HARNESSED, ANTIMATTER USAGE…

ESTIMATED TIME LEFT UNTIL TEST: 1356 MORE YEARS

BEGING PREPARATIONS FOR TESTING…

FLOOD CAPSULES UNDER PRODUCTION…

FLOOD SPORES BEGINNING INCUBATION…

END LOG.

A/N: And that's it! YAY! I'm currently toying with the idea of adding the flood to the story (Don't worry, it's going to be after Galbatorix turns himself into an antimatter bomb, and blows up the entire city) That way, this story could continue on even longer. Just imagine the devastation, the planet would be in if the flood were to come! Also, I'd be able to bring out some of the WMDs used by the UNSC and Covenant. Mainly, the glassing beam, and orbital MAC gun. Although I might even be able to add a NOVA bomb in there somewhere. Anyway, tell me what you think. If you don't want it, you have quite a while to tell me so, as I won't even consider adding the flood in when Galbatorix is still alive. Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter, and I hope the mention of the flood didn't drive you away from the story! (I would be VERY sad if that happened D;) I'll be updating soon!


	19. Preparations

**A/N: SORRY ABOUT THE REALLY LONG UPLOAD! I had just reached that point in time where the AP tests began to create mass panic in my mind, and I just kicked everything else in to study. (I hate the AP tests, especially World History) Updates will begin again from now on, but they will NOT be consistent until my finals are done in about two weeks. Again, I'M SORRY! Also, I've noticed that many of you seem to be posting comments as anonymous users, while I love any and all reviews, anonymous questions are frustrating because I have no way of replying to them, and there are times, when I have to leave an excellent question unanswered. Anonymous flames and other comments which do not require me to answer a question is fine, but I ask that questions be signed if possible.**

Disclaimer: I do not own Eragon or Halo

Chapter 19: Preparations

The group returned back to their camp in triumph. As the two dragons descended from the sky, Eragon's sensitive ears picked up the shout of guards, as they saw their forms, breaking through the cloud cover. Slowly, Saphira and Thorn decreased their altitude. The group was tired from their journey; the group dared not sleep too easily in the Empire's land. Although they trusted each other with their lives, Eragon had remained constantly on edge, and unable to sleep, trying to pinpoint the slightest noises just in case it was a magician sneaking up on them. Thankfully, they had made it back relatively unscathed. Slowly, the ground got closer, before they landed with a soft _thump_. Groaning from the agony of moving muscles that hadn't been in use for hours, Eragon heaved himself out of the saddle, before landing in an undignified heap on the ground beside Saphira. He paid no mind to the crowd of cheering men that surrounded him. He did not care that he was now even more so a hero than before. He did not care that he had done what none had accomplished before. To the general men, he was the Rider who had killed a Shade, he was the Rider who had given them hope of victory, after many long generations, He was the Rider who had infiltrated the heart of the Empire, and struck a crippling blow to one of the largest cities under Galbatorix's control. He is the God who would lead the Varden to victory.

Ever since he was a little farmboy in the remote, majestic mountains of the Spine, Eragon had dreamed of fame, he had dreamed that his parents were Kings, and Nobles, however unlikely it would have been. As Eragon lay there, he realized that his dream of fame had been achieved, and he was in the thoughts and eyes of millions. Eragon hated it, every moment of it. He was exhausted, and numb from the exertion of staying in the saddle almost nonstop or six days, with a bout of fighting in between. He was bruised, and sore, and all he wanted was for someone to bring him a cup of water, and help him to his tent. He desperately wanted for someone to step forward, and guide his tired and rebelling limbs to his tent where he would be able to collapse on his cot, and bury his fatigue in the warm blankets of sleep.

Not a single man broke the circle; nobody dared step forward and touch their God. Instead, they all stood back and waited, attempting to help Him, and show their reverence and support through their cheers.

Instead, Eragon felt a headache pound at his temples, as the chaos of the crowd throbbed to a crescendo. Groaning, he forced his screaming muscles to push himself up, as he struggled to get his feet under him and stand. Using Saphira as a handhold, he dragged himself up and struggled to his feet, swaying with fatigue. Suddenly, he heard gasps, and cries of wonder, as the men all looked up as one, pointing in shock at the two insectlike craft that were sweeping down gracefully. The two machines touched down softly, the soft whirring noise of the glowing wings dying down to a dark blue. With a hiss, the top rose from the body, revealing a small cavity in each vehicle. Two figures slid down and landed on the ground with a thud, revealing themselves to be John and Thel. They straitened from the crouch that they had instinctively dropped into, and looked around, taking in the sea of admirers. Shortly after, Thorn followed, depositing Roran and Katrina down. Swiftly, Murtagh leapt from his saddle, seemingly unaffected by the long journey. Looking around, he grinned then turned to Eragon.

"It seems like you've gotten yourselves a fair number of admirers brother, I don't think you'll ever be able to sleep soundly again, with this crowd following you around." He teased, laughing at Eragon's grimace.

Groaning again, Eragon staggered forward, in an attempt to move through the crowd. He didn't make it very far, before his stiff muscles gave way again, depositing him in an ungodly heap in the center of the human ring. Glaring at Murtagh, who was openly laughing at his predicament, he prepared his retort. He was beaten by Saphira however, when she lowered her long neck, and gently puffed a large plume of smoke into his open, laughing mouth. Swiftly, his laughter was masked by Murtagh's coughs, as his body sought to get rid of the foreign, smoke from his airways.

Eragon grinned in triumph, _Thanks_ he thought. _Hmph, _Saphira's reply came quickly, crushing Eragon's hope for any sympathetic ally in his battle; _to be honest it is pretty funny to see these humans bow down to you like they would a God. Don't be too ashamed, it is their duty as prey to fear and respect the predator. _

Eragon groaned to himself, before seeking to escape his ring of admirers. He failed miserably, and his weakened limbs failed him once again. Crawling forward, he managed to grab ahold of Saphira's flank, and haul himself back into a standing position just before the ring was parted, and Nasuada rushed in, quickly followed by a ragtag entourage. Amongst them, Eragon saw a man of medium build and stature, with a crown resting upon his head. After him, came a short woman, whose face was framed by her brown, curly hair. With a jolt, Eragon recognized her as Angela, the fortuneteller he had first met in Teirm. Trotting after her, like a child would his mother, was Solembum, the werecat who followed after Angela. Following them was the foreigner, Thomas. He was striding after them with measured, constant steps. His eyes were roving the scene with a fair amount of amusement in them.

"How did it go?" asked Nasuada, going straight to the point. Her eyes betrayed nothing about what she was feeling, be it triumph from Eragon's victory, or disapproval at his stubborn, and selfish decision to go running of after Brom and Katrina.

Eragon briefly gathered his thoughts before replying. "Our goals were accomplished, and we are all back with no serious harm," said Eragon.

Nasuada nodded, before continuing, "Good, then I want you to rest for a week, then I want you to return to the dwarves' capital. They are currently holding council, and are deciding on how much help they will give to our cause. Even with our powerful allies, we are outnumbered a thousand to one, thus we must have the complete and utter support of the dwarves."

Eragon nodded in acknowledgement, before replying, "I understand; however, before I go, I wanted to ask you for permission to return to Ellesmera to talk with our teachers one more time, before I rejoin your forces. There are questions that I must know before I will be able to have the hope of defeating Galbatorix."

Nasuada frowned, before motioning for him to follow. Without making sure that he was following, she left, heading towards her tent. Staggering, Eragon tried to follow as quickly as his tired limbs allowed him to.

Thomas looked at their retreating forms with a small smirk, before returning his face to the impassive expression perfected by countless military commanders before him. He turned to face John, before snapping off a sharp "Report".

John swiftly stood at attention, saluting automatically, and replying in clipped precise words. "Sir, the target was neutralized without much problems. However, there seemed to be a low-grade nuclear explosion at the site, meaning that the enemy has access to nuclear technology. However, I have reason to believe that the technology was not stolen from our own files or stockpiles, due to the relatively small release of energy. I estimate the explosion to be even less than that of the Hiroshima explosion during the Age of Land. That is all sir."

Thomas nodded, thinking thoughtfully to himself, before turning back, and heading to the base. "Very well Spartan, go get some rest. I will call upon you when I need to, you may get some rest. Dismissed!"

Giving a sharp salute, John swiftly turned and headed to the barracks, where he planned to get some rest.

_Urû'baen_

Galbatorix snarled, as he contemplated the defeat at Helgrind. The unfortunate messenger lay at his feet, along with hundreds of other incompetent fools. They were all dead, each face wearing an expression of pure terror and agony. Their blood stained the marble floor, as Galbatorix paced around, angrily contemplating the new turn of events. The loss of the Ra'zac was inexcusable, and had severely weakened his forces. Now his forces were weak, without anything that could even hope to stand a chance against the combined forces of the two Riders and foreigners. He widely cast around his mind for a plan, before deciding on one so deadly and ominous; even he shuddered briefly to contemplate it. However, he ignored the little sliver of fea- caution, and headed out the throne room. His destination was the dungeons. The foolish traitors would have the honor of spearheading the sword that would rend through the Varden, and usher in a new era ruled under himself.

_Farthen Dûr, Two weeks_

"Unacceptable! I will not commit mine entire clan into helping the Varden win its war against Galbatorix! Our funds and stores of gold are ours and ours alone; mine clan will not support you Horathgar!" A dwarf snarled, as he stood on his stool.

Thomas grimaced in distaste, wondering when he had decided to accompany Eragon to the dwarven capital to oversee negotiations. He had always hated politics, and now he fully remembered why.

It had been three days since the negotiations began, and it had not progressed a single inch. While the High King Horathgar was fully supporting the Varden's efforts, many of the other clans were unwilling, or outright opposed to helping defeat the dark king. Some had openly threatened war, should the decision to join forces be forced upon them and their clan.

Horathgar frowned from where he was seated, before rising to speak himself. "We cannot afford not to join forces, as Galbatorix would not be content until he kills us all, and enslaves our young. It is true that joining may mean our deaths, but not joining will mean certain death, and the enslavement of our young. If we do not fight together, we will all die separately. I for one will choose to die to see our children live in a world where they do not have to hide from an immortal tyrant seeking to kill us all. However, I will not be able to add much to the Varden's ranks, unless I have all of your clans' support."

A short, burly dwarf stood up, his beard hanging from his chin in a scraggly mess. He was grossly overweight, and looked to be barely able to hold the axe he had at his side. However, his small eyes glittered with anger at Horathgar. As he spoke, he began to step forward, as if to threaten the king. "As you know, I had led mine clan for many years, and never had I been faced with such a question. It is not a matter of our life and death, for we have our mountains, and this city itself is impenetrable!" He grandly swung his arms out to indicate the room they were in as he spoke. "Even if Galbatorix himself flew to mine city, he would never be able to kill us, for our walls are impenetrable to everything that the mad king can throw at us! I speak for mine clan when I say that I will never join you on your mad endeavor to overthrow the king!" Finishing his tirade, he spat at Horathgar's feet, and turned around, heaving his bulk back to his seat, before settling in, confident that there would be no opposition from the king.

The dwarf was right, and no reply came from the respected king. It was Thomas' knife that showed its opinion, by embedding itself a hairsbreadth away from the dwarf's hand. The blob of fat jumped, and then looked up fearfully to see the captain of the _Infinity_ glaring at him with unwavering eyes. Unconcealed anger and hatred danced in them, as Thomas slowly withdrew the knife, sheathing it before continuing.

"Listen carefully to what I have to say, because you are seconds away from throwing your insignificant life away. You may think that you are safe from Galbatorix's reach here, but the truth is that you are no safer than if you were at the gates of Urû'baen itself. If he decides to destroy you, he'll simply devastate your mountains with low yield nuclear bombs. Soon, your people will begin to get sick, and within ten years, you'll be dead, along with everyone else living here. Then it'll be a simple task to waltz in, and take your wealth from your corpses. Even if you don't believe me, you will not be able to survive without outside aid. It may take years, but as long as Galbatorix keeps you from getting supplies, you and your men will slowly starve to death."

The Dwarf leapt up again, his previous fear disappearing in an instant when Thomas finished his speech. "Don't tell me what to do _human;_ I've been leading mine clan for over one hundred and fifty years! If I say that it is possible, then it will be! Mine clan will not be joining your war, and that is final! We shall remain in our mines searching for gold, and getting rich on our own, whilst you kill each other over a worthless tract of land!"

Thomas sighed, before leaning back. "So you will remain here, and selfishly mine your gold, and not take a stand on global matters?"

At the dwarf's confirming nod he continued, "Well I see that I have no choice. If you insist to get rich on your gold, then I will flood the markets with gold so cheap, that it would be worth less than the air you breathe!"

The dwarf snorted, disbelieving.

Thomas gave a sinister grin, before pulling out a small communicator. "Captain Lasky to Infinity, I want a scan in my general location for large lodes of gold. I want the one nearest to us excavated ASAP."

"Infinity to Lasky, we are beginning surface scan, results will come out within a few minutes."

Less than half an hour later, the com crackled to life again. "Infinity to Lasky, we have confirmed a large gold deposit, and are moving in to excavate over."

Thomas smiled, and then motioned to the court, which had been rooted to their seats for the past several minutes. "Shall we go up and see the excavation?" He asked, as he rose and headed past the large oak doors.

The council gaped in awe, as they witnessed the most shocking view of their lives. They had climbed out the tunnel nearest the site just in time to see a massive ship drop down a large, gleaming construct, easily the size of the Isidar Mithrim, and many times taller. The four pointed legs made the construct look like a predatory insect, ready to pounce on its prey. The activity surrounding it was no less awe inspiring, as at least twenty men dressed in strange clothing scurried like ants, climbing up to the inside of the construct, and then jumping down. Up above, hornets circled like vultures, escorting the larger albatross transports which were waiting to transport the gold to God knows where. Lasky figured that they might as well use the gold they mined, even if it was originally used as a way of humbling the dwarves, and acting as an ultimate threat of financial ruin. As the group watched, a sudden crackling voice from Lasky caused all of them to jump.

"Sir, we are ready to proceed with the operation. The vein has been sighted around several hundred meters below the extractor. Permission to proceed?"

Thomas didn't pause to think, before his answer was given. "Permission granted, I want that gold extracted and collected ASAP."

Finishing his command, Thomas turned back to the miner, which was a modified Locust platform begin to power up. His companions began to mutter in astonishment, as a high pitched whining noise began to power up, irritating the ears of the crowd. However, none reacted as much as Eragon, who clasped his hands to his ears, eyes shut and mouth set in a grimace of pain. Hastily, he grabbed his tunic and ripped two small pieces of fabric off, stuffing them in his ears before sighing in relief. Straightening again, he turned his attention back onto the mining platform, where the top seemed to be glowing with the unearthly light common among the alien vehicles. As they watched, the glow intensified, along with the torturous noise levels. Suddenly, when the light became too bright to watch, and the sound too painful to hear, it was released, and a bright flash of light heralded the beam of pure energy as it smashed into the ground, melting rock sending molten debris flying.

The beam cut through the rock like an industrial drill through paper, smashing through hundreds of layers of ancient, impenetrable stone within seconds. As the beam progressed, it began to widen, as the intense beam destabilized, spraying molten rock and plasma everywhere.

The observers were shocked silent with awe, but they had just enough sense to duck, as molten rock rained down upon them. As they watched, the beam began to die down, the intense white glow of the cannon and its powerful projectile dropping to a dull purple glow. Slowly, the purple beam turned blue, then red, before finally dying down completely. Before the beam had completely died down, the albatrosses dropped downwards, depositing equipment, and siphoning away the top layer of rock to reveal the heavier gold that had condensed to the bottom. Soon, the gold itself was removed, and the observers were left to stare in shock at the massive crater which was left of the mining operation, a horrendous scar upon the earth, where no life existed for a five thousand feet radius. The council could only stare in horror as they were reminded of the sheer power possessed by the men from the stars.

"That was only one of the smaller beams," Thomas said quietly. Even he was awed by the power, despite seeing the full scale energy projectors in work against entire planets.

"THAT was a small one?" a council member shouted in shock.

"Correct, our largest energy projectors are mounted within the _Infinity _itself, and are capable of leveling this entire planet. If I authorize it, then this planet will become barren, and devoid of life, until terraforming is complete and only then will this planet be able to repopulate itself again." He said shortly, as memories washed back to him, of the desperate days clinging to the smallest shreds of hope, knowing deep down inside that defending the planet was hopeless, for when the battle cruisers arrived, they would all become fish, being shot at without a hope of retaliation.

"By Gûntera, just what is your limit human? I cannot possibly hope to comprehend the full extent of your technology, but our ways of extracting gold is the best, as no one else can purify it to the degree we can. Thus, our gold will still be sought, and we will not starve to death." The dwarf speaking was visibly shaken, as his eyes still held the shock at such an awesome display of power. He was shaking his head in denial as he sought any reason, however irrational, for the dwarves to stay within their mountains.

Thomas chuckled, hearing about the purity of dwarven gold. Their discussion on the purity of the gold was interrupted by a pelican, which swept downwards majestically, slowing down to a hover inches above the ground, flattening the foliage in a ten foot radius. The hiss of hydraulics was heard, as the rear bay opened to reveal a marine, who wordlessly held out his hand, and opened it, revealing a gleaming bar of gold resting on his palms.

"Sir," he said, "a sample from the operation, we currently has fifty tons of gold, each one minted into the bar you see here. We have packaged the gold, and are awaiting further orders sir." As he spoke, he handed the gold bar to Thomas, before turning sharply, and walking back into the hold. A second afterwards, the rear bay door shut with a hiss, and the pelican slowly rose up vertically, before its lifts shifted its angles, and the heavy transport shot forwards, rising swiftly until they could no longer see the gleaming machine.

Thomas smiled, before turning back and showing the assembly the bar of gold he had received. Raising it up to the sun, he turned it around, admiring the softly gleaming surfaces, as the afternoon sun caught the edges of the precious bar. "This bar, is ten ounces of gold, purified to 99.99 percent purity. That means that of the fifty tons currently in our possession, only about half a ton is impure materials. This means that we have managed to retrieve 49.5 tons of gold within a few hours. Tell me, did you even know you had such a large gold deposit so close to home? And would you have managed to mine it all within the time that we have used? Our methods easily outcompete yours if the UNSC were to decide to fund this war with gold mined by our equipment. In addition, this brings another point that I was hoping to make. No matter what you believe, your mountains are not safe. Given enough power, anyone can drive through these mountains like they don't even exist. Even though we would not do these things ourselves, Galbatorix himself definitely has enough power to devastate these mountains. If he doesn't, all he has to do is draw upon the strength of his slaves, and within a week, the maps would have to be rewritten without these mountains on them anymore. Your only hope is to ally yourselves with us and the Varden. This way, you will be able to help defeat the only one who is capable of destroying your home apart from us. Otherwise, you stand to be surrounded, and exterminated within your mountain strongholds. Your cities will be torn up and ruined. Your families will be–"

"ENOUGH! I HAVE HEARD ENOUGH!" The originally defiant dwarf was now cowering on the ground, whimpering, as he tried in vain to forget the bleak future Thomas had painted. "You will have mine clan's support in this coming war" he said, through clenched teeth. It was obvious that he hated the arrangements, and was highly unhappy about the additional burden and risks placed on his clans' shoulders.

Thomas shrugged mentally, _deal with it_ he thought. Shaking himself of the grim mood he had woven himself, he turned to the other clan rulers. "Do I have your support too?" he asked, knowing that he did. The last great clan to stand in his way had now yielded, and Thomas knew that the others would follow, each one falling quicker than the last, until every one of the dwarven clans were united under a single banner. True to his prediction, the leaders of the minor clans slowly began to give their assent. Slowly, the leaders began to cave away in small groups and slowly began to gain momentum. Soon, every one of the dwarven leaders were nodding and kneeling, signifying their commitment to overthrowing the dark king Galbatorix.

Thomas smirked, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction at the kneeling dwarves. He turned to Eragon, who was still frozen, with his gaze fixed on the smoking crater. His visage showed absolute shock, and Thomas doubted that Eragon had heard anything that had transpired after the mining operation. He smiled, before addressing the shocked Rider. "Eragon, your job here is done, you can leave now and complete your training with your teachers now."

Eragon jumped after hearing Thomas' voice. Slowly, he turned his eyes to Thomas, before asking, "Sorry, I blanked out, what did you say again?"

Thomas laughed, before repeating himself again, "I said that you are no longer needed here, the dwarves have pledged their full support. You may return to your teacher now to complete your training."

Eragon nodded dumbly, before turning and climbing on top of an equally shocked Saphira. Nodding his farewell, Eragon grasped Saphira's neck before she leaped off the mountain with a mighty leap. Slowly, they circled the crater three times, before resuming their journey north, back to their teachers in the heart of the Elves' capital, the glorious city of Du Weldenvarden.

_Vardens' camp, approaching Fenister_

It had been a week since Thomas had gone to help Eragon unite the quarreling dwarfs in the mountains, and everything was going well for the Varden. The opposition they faced were ill equipped to deal with the modern armies of the UNSC, and the Varden also made their fair share of contributions to the mounting death toll of the imperial troops.

Currently, John was standing in front of the field projector, studying the latest intelligence granted to them by the _Infinity_ and her sister ships overhead. More accurately, Cortana was studying the map, and John was repeating everything she said. There was no need for hi, to double check Cortana's information and plans. It was known between the two that Cortana could make a plan faster than John could snap a grunt's neck. "There is a small caravan of troops carrying supplies to the main army at Gil'ead. Thel, I want you to take your troops and fly behind them, to provide my forces with flanking cover. Air support will be present in the form of Longsword fighters. Any questions?"

_Twenty miles from Feinster, two days later_

John lay in wait alongside twenty other men. A kilometer away, blue waypoint markers signified the presence of The Arbiter's forces. In between them, was the caravan that had been the target of their assault. Silently, John watched the timer on the corner of his visor, counting down with it, as he prepared himself for the oncoming fight.

_Ten seconds_

_ Nine seconds_

_ Eight seconds_

_ Seven seconds_

_ Six seconds_

_ Five_

_ Four_

_ Three_

_ Two_

_ One_

To the unsuspecting imperial forces, the only indication that they were under attack came when thirty men threw up their arms, and collapsed, blood spraying from holes in their heads and chests.

John saw the survivors shout in alarm as they quickly sought to put the bulk of the caravan between themselves and their unseen attackers. Ten more fell before the soldiers got into their improvised cover. However, their relief was short lived, as their reprieve was ruined by streaks of blue, purple, and green light. The armor of those hit turned into a weapon itself, as the superheated plasma melted the primitive iron plates, and accelerated it to speeds comparable to the original firearms of the seventeenth century. Seconds after the molten metal penetrated flesh, they solidified, encasing the organs of those unlucky enough to be shot in the chest. Those hit died quickly and painfully. Before the soldiers could even react to the new threat behind them, two large balls of plasma sped out of the gathering darkness, and hit the caravan. Instead of exploding, it ricocheted off the wooden beams and turned towards the shocked men. The intelligent men tried to evade the deadly projectile by climbing over the carts, preferring to face the bullets and die less painfully than those targeted by the alien troops. Leaping off the cart, they gave a sigh of relief, before the boom of the fuel rods exploding and the screams of the dying told them just how close they had come to dying.

Correction: how close they still were to dying. The men turned around at a peculiar noise, only to see two rockets speeding towards them. Tracing the smoke trail back, the men could now clearly see the twenty or so enemies, wearing mottled green clothing, and wielding the strange rods that were causing them so much pain. Their minds could not process the information any further, as their very cells separated from each other, vaporized by the intense heat of the two deadly explosions.

John saw the kills, and smiled in satisfaction, knowing that the caravan was now secure in friendly hands. Some of the supplies had been damaged by the explosives that the marines were so fond of using, but they had captured many more supplies and the portion that would have to be discarded was negligible in comparison to the rest of the supplies captured. As soon as the all clear was given, three transports swooped down to load the supplies onboard, for the short journey back to the Varden camp. Turning, John melted back into the bushes, heading to the banshee fighter concealed there. The next part of the mission was redundant in his opinion, but if Cortana had demanded it, then who was he to question her orders?

The banshee escort of ten fighters slowly escorted the transports back home, while the remaining ground forces made their way back in the troop transports they had arrived in. John slowly scanned the horizon, as the formation moved forward; making sure that no hostiles had been sighted. His gaze was diverted, when he noticed a hundred hostile signatures on his tracker, heading swiftly for them from behind. Glancing backwards, he was shocked to see a large swarm of humanoid figures, snarling as they gained ground on the slow moving transports.

"Contacts at our rear!" John shouted into his com, before flipping his fighter around, and pushing the lifts to full operational capacity. Thel and five others flipped around to join him, as the rest continued their run for friendly airspace. John put the transports out of his mind, as his mind focused. His fingers brushed over the holographic trigger, sending a stream of bolts out of his fighter, incinerating one of the enemy 'fighters'. He swiftly rolled to the side, dislodging one enemy that had managed to grab onto one of the beams supporting the lifts on his banshee. His hand tightened, and hundreds of plasma bolts streaked through the air, burning targets out of the sky left and right. However, there were simply too many, as he saw one banshee get boarded, slowing it down. Immediately, the swarm of twisted hominoids converged on the vehicle, tearing the cockpit open, and shredding the unfortunate marine inside. John watched helplessly, as the lifeless body tumbled through the air.

John launched a fuel rod in retaliation, before signaling his fellow pilots. "Retreat, we're outnumbered thirty to one, and we only need to return our cargo back. Any more deaths would be redundant. We will fall back, and make use of the additional firepower from the transports' cannons."

As one, the six remaining banshees flipped up, accelerating and crushing several enemies before flipping around and spinning. The maneuver turned their banshees a complete one hundred eighty degrees, and the pilots wasted no time, before activating their boost, outrunning their pursuers easily, as their twisted wings struggled to catch up. Soon, they caught up to the transports, and began circling them, in preparation to defend the vulnerable vehicles from the results of a new, and twisted experiment which had found its birth in Galbatorix's mad mind.

As the altered humans came into view, the guns on the transports opened fire, sending thousands of incendiary, and tracer rounds into the air, turning the sky into an elaborate fireworks show, as the banshee escorts swiftly added to the beams of light crisscrossing the sky.

"We're cutting it very close, Spartan" murmured Thel, before opening up with every weapon onboard the iconic fighter of the Human-Covenant War. The blue bolts of plasma were complemented by beams of golden light, and flashes of green, eliminating several enemies. Thel turned around, and swore, as he saw one transport get boarded, he sped towards the large machine, and swiftly killed the would-be boarder, leaving several scorch marks on the titanium plating. Flying overhead, Thel saw the distance between the enemy swarm and transports close slowly and steadily. However, he had already known it beforehand, what gave him cause for excitement was the Varden's camp, not even three kilometers away. The magnified, high resolution camera mounted on his fighter clearly showed the ground men loading flak shells into anything that could fit it. As he watched, the first field gun fired in a flash of light and smoke. The tracer flashed through the air, and exploded within a foot of a cluster of enemies. The survivors veered off their original flight path, as they tried to avoid the new threat. However, they didn't get the opportunity, as flak rounds began to explode everywhere, sending nearby enemies tumbling to the ground, unconscious or dead from the force of the explosions. The banshees and transports began to fly higher, above the cloud of flak, as their ground gunners continued to devastate any unwise enough to fly into their range. Soon, the remaining enemies broke off, cutting their losses, and unwilling to continue for a few tons of supplies. John gave a sigh of relief, as the battered group touched down in the camp, weary and tired from the adrenaline filled fight. It was the first large scale aerial battle on the planet, and the loss of a banshee was a shock that none had expected to experience against the technologically weaker imperial army.

_Ellesmera, One Month Later._

Eragon grunted as he tightened the last strap on Saphira's saddle. Turning, he saw as Oromis walk up, a solemn expression on his face.

"You are leaving now?" he asked. Despite Oromis's calm outwards appearance, Eragon could sense his teacher's agitation for him leaving.

"Yes, the UNSC have just contacted me. They will be mounting their attack on Feinster within the week. I'll have to be there to help them, and minimize the deaths of the Varden. They haven't been doing much since the Battle of the Burning Plains, and I'll have to be there to bolster their morale."

Oromis frowned, "Why haven't they been doing much? Surely there have been skirmishes between your side and the Empire?"

Eragon nodded, conceding the point. "There have been raids mounted by the Empire, but the UNSC have been decimating all who come close. They have dug out a series of trenches, and filled them to the brim with their weapons. Many of which can take out entire groups of men in the fraction of a second. Also, most are too scared to even approach the camp, again thanks to the UNSC and their heavy usage of their explosive mines."

Oromis nodded, showing his understanding. "So they have become weak and complacent, confident in their allies' abilities to protect them. Thus, in order to make up for that, you'll have to be there to raise morale once they become immersed in the horror of war again." He shook his head, every fiber of his being showing his disappointment, "The arrival of the UNSC was a great advantage, perhaps too much of one, for how will the Varden expect to defend itself when their allies leave for their home?"

Eragon shrugged, thinking "I guess that the burden of protecting everyone would fall upon the Riders, just like it had before Galbatorix took over," he said.

Oromis nodded solemnly, "You are correct, Eragon-Finiarel, that burden will fall upon our shoulders, for we are the Riders, a group more powerful than any single being in this land, except Galbatorix himself."

Eragon nodded, feeling a lump in his throat at the parting he was now faced with. Turning, he swiftly climbed upon Saphira's back, and checked his belongings, making sure that everything was in place. Seeing everything in place, he patted his new sword Brisingr, forged by himself, through the direction of Rhunön, the legendary metal smith of the elves. (You all know how it was forged, so I'm not going to repeat that portion again.) Rhunön had found another deposit of the special metal used to forge the swords of the Riders, and had brought it out after Eragon's visit to her home. Now, with his new sword in place, Eragon looked back one last time at his old teacher, before turning to face forward.

With a mighty leap, Saphira unfurled her wings, and took to the air, circling once, before heading back south, towards Feinster, and the Varden's camp.

As they flew, Eragon heard his teacher's voice in his head one last time, before they moved out of range. _Be careful Eragon, for our chances at Gil'ead are much less than yours, despite what Glaedr and I wish to believe, we both have our… issues. Should we fall, it will become your sole responsibility to train and teach the next generation of Riders. Farewell Eragon, if we do meet again, it shall be under much darker times, at the gates of Urû'baen itself._

** A/N: 6k words... the lengths of my chapters are getting longer consistently, I had just read the first chapter of my own work, and looking back on it, it was quite honestly a pretty bad beginning. I'm surprised that any of you stayed along with me for this long, considering the quality of my work... But hey, I'm not complaining here, and I'm really happy that all you loyal readers stuck with me and helped me improve to where I am today. As usual, any constructive criticism will be rewarded with a virtual cookie, and plaque. Hopefully, you guys will stick with me to the end of this story :) Also, as mentioned in the first A/N, Uptades will be sporadic until my finals are finished, and school goes out. **


	20. This is Our Land

A/N: Sorry about the long update, I'm not dead. I just had a college visit to Caltech that I COMPLETELY forgot about. After my return, my computer decided to die on me, (I am never buying Dell again. Period.) as they usually do after they go through airport security. So I had to get that repaired as well. Sorry again for the long upload. But this chapter is not about me and my "laptop" (Pile of useless plastic made by dell.) (Problems began to appear in my hardware HOURS after my warranty ended... HOURS! That's Dell for you...), this is about the chapter, so you can ignore my ramblings and continue to the story now.

CH 20: This is Our Land

Eragon was bored. There was no way around it. Despite the ethereal beauty of the slowly shifting clouds, and the magnificent crimson sunset, Eragon could hardly keep his eyes open. He had been flying with Saphira for almost a year now, and the drifting clouds could only hold his interest for so long. He had decided to wait before arming himself, simply because he hated the visor of his helmet restricting his peripheral vision. Instead, he was wearing several layers of thick, woolen coats, because despite the spell Eragon had cast, the air around them was definitely no warmer than midwinter on the tallest peaks of the Spine. Despite the cold, Eragon's eyes refused to go up. Soon, his head drooped forwards and his eyes clamped themselves shut. Saphira fared no better, as she unconsciously withdrew within herself, as the steady thrum of her wings became a constant, comforting beat, lulling her mind into a state of semi-unconsciousness. Together, the two lifelong companions drifted along in the darkness of the upcoming night.

_Eragon! _

Eragon jerked awake, at the mental shout, completely disoriented, and with a spinning head. Groaning, he raised his head, or was it lowered? The world had become a circle of color, swirling in inconceivable combinations above Saphira's neck. The world looked wrong, and Eragon could not figure out why it felt that way.

_ERAGON!_

Saphira's second, more desperate shout served as a bucketful of cold water, and Eragon fully awoke from his dazed slumber. Although his mind cleared, his vision did not, and Eragon swiftly realized why. They were shooting downwards in a crazy spin, as Saphira desperately tried to gain control of her wings. Desperately, Eragon searched his mind for a spell to stop, or even slow their descent, but his mind was not responding at all, as his internal fluids were forced upwards, and into his brain, preventing his blood from transferring much needed oxygen from his lungs to his brain. Eragon desperately tried to dispel the black spots in his vision, and ward off unconsciousness. To his horror, he realized too late that his concentration had broken the moment he had fallen asleep, breaking his spell that warmed the air around them. With the spell gone, ice had formed on Saphira's thin flight membranes, disrupting air flow, and causing the speeding dive that the two companions found themselves in. Eragon cursed his foolishness, as the blackness overcame his vision, and he found himself slipping further into unconsciousness. Just before his control over his mind completely slipped, he found a mental foothold on his mind, one which he desperately grabbed at. Just as he grabbed at it, he felt a searing flame wash over him, and the foothold slipped, and for the second time that day, he slumped forward, and knew no more.

Saphira struggled to right her spinning descent, as she tried to pull up. Not that she knew what up was anymore, she could be accelerating them into the ground for all she knew. The world was spinning too much for her to judge, and her body was not responding to how she moved her wings. She felt despair pooling in her belly, as she felt the numbing chill of ice on her wings, and knew that she would not be able to right herself, unless she was willing to burn her wings off instead. She cursed her decision to make the flight without her suit, as it would have prevented the formation of ice, and even if she did not, she could have still maintained some control with the thrusters. However, she had left it with the UNSC for repairs a while back, and had not gotten it back yet. Desperately, she called to Eragon, hoping that he would be able to help her out with a spell. Her hopes dropped, as she felt him fighting to stay conscious, and resigned herself to becoming a crater in the ground, until she felt the anomaly in Eragon's losing battle to stay awake.

As soon as Eragon grabbed at the mental hold, he slipped again, and he knew no more, however, his newly forged sword began to glow, as deep within its sapphire, a tiny spark pulsed like a beating heart.

_Brisingr hates the damn fucking cold. Brisingr wishes that it were warm. Wait. Can Brisingr think? Fuck yes! Brisingr can think! Brisignr is happy that Brisingr can think! Oh. Wait. Is Brisingr falling? Oh son of a bitch, Brisingr is not happy. Brisingr is wielded by an incompetent rider. Brisingr is sad. Brisingr will die now, too late to fly anymore. Brisingr is sad. Brisingr wishes that it will not die. Brisingr is angry. Why did stupid dragon fly so high? Brisingr WILL NOT DIE THIS DAY!_

The newly sentient sword instinctively focused its newly found conscious into a ball, and rushed into Eragon's undefended mind. It searched for one word, and only one word. Drawing upon the energy that Eragon had stored into him, the sword instinctively expelled every last drop into the atmosphere around it, focused on a single word. _BRISINGR!_

To Saphira's surprise, just as she gave in and accepted her fate, she felt the spark of a new mind, a small one, but one that was sharper, and quicker than any she had ever felt before. To her surprise, a surge of energy emanated from the sword on Eragon's hip, and a ring of fire rushed out of the pommel. The ring sped by her in an instant before dissipating, leaving behind nothing but a slight warmth in her extremities. However, the thin rivulets of ice on her wings melted instantly, becoming a small localized shower, as she suddenly found that she had regained control of her descent.

Swiftly, she flared her wings, spreading them out like a parachute unfolding in the sky. With control regained, it was an easy matter to right her descent, and she pulled out of the dive an instant before she hit the ground, scattering tiny droplets of water across the ground, as her tired wings gave out a moment later, allowing the two companions to tumble softly across the ground. Groaning, Saphira felt her own consciousness slipping away, and she gave herself up to the comforting darkness, after ascertaining that her rider was unharmed.

_0300, 20 kilometers from Feinster, __**Master Chief Petty Officer John 117**_

John sighed as they neared the city castle. The thing looked like one of those he remembered seeing back on onyx, when he had first been drafted into the Spartan group. He sighed, the location wasn't very good either, sure it was on a hill, but there was no cover whatsoever, and there were no trees for about a kilometer around the thing, he knew it had been standard tactics for ancient times, but all the lack of trees would do now would be to make his job easier, as he didn't have to worry about any hidden enemies, while being able to pick off isolated enemies with unbelievable ease with his sniper rifle. Behind his helmet, John's face twisted into a grim smile, as he studied the next battlefield he would be fighting in. Beside him, Thel was staring at their target, smiling in that sinister way that promised death and destruction to all that stood before him. Their assault would begin exactly one day from their current time, and the two longtime veterans were looking forward to the battle. To Thel, it was a matter of freeing those that Galbatorix had oppressed for so long. For John, it was his home, it was where he felt most comfortable. To the seasoned veteran, fighting was the only experience he knew of. It was what he had been doing since long before he could even remember. To him, he was about to return home. Back to where the scent of blood, and burnt flesh filtered in through his armor's air intakes. Back to where he experienced the slight vibrations of his assault rifle, as he struck fear and death into those who deserved it. For John, he couldn't wait to get back into the battle.

_Somewhere between Du Weldenvarden and Feinster, __**Eragon**_

Groaning in pain, Eragon slowly pushed himself up from the cold ground. Slowly, he took in the scattered packs, and Saphira's slumped form, as it slowly rose from her breathing. Something was off, something was there that had not been before. It was disconcerting, and Eragon felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise, as he placed just what was wrong. In one fluid motion, he drew Brisingr, and brought it around his head whipping from side to side as he tried to locate the intruder.

_What the hell are you doing? I mean falling asleep at high altitude was one thing, jumping up and down, randomly waving me around like a madman is another. You have some serious mental problems that should most likely be treated as soon as possible._

Eragon jumped at the new presence inside his mind. His barriers had been up the moment he had woken, so it would have been impossible for anything to break in without his knowledge. _So why is there someone else in my mind?_

_Well I'm not here cause it's a good mind, you idiot! _The mental voice sounded decidedly annoyed, and angry. Eragon noticed a slight metallic ring to the voice, but put it off as his mind being addled by the crash. _No it's not your mind being addled by that crash, not like it would make any difference anyway, your already too stupid be become more stupid. If there was a limit on intelligence, then you have reached, and broken that threshold a looong time ago. If you are still wondering who the hell's talking to you, then I suggest you look down at that handsome sword strapped to your waist. That's who the hell you are talking to idiot!_

Eragon's eyebrow shot up in surprise, wondering if he had gone mad.

Eragon's eyebrow shot up in surprise, wondering if he had gone mad.

_You haven't_

Eragon turned to look at Saphira, who was staring at Brisingr intently, almost reverently.

_That is indeed a sentient sword that you have created._

Eragon turned back to the sword strapped to his waist, only now noticing the dim spark that sat in the middle of the sparkling sapphire. Opening his mind to the presence, he gathered up all his questions, and began to shoot them off, one at a time without pause.

Before he got very far, he was firmly stopped by Saphira's prescence, as she loomed above him. _I'm just as curious as you are, but don't you think we should be doing something else?_

Eragon frowned in confusion, before Brisingr decided to contribute its own two cents. _You know, I'm surprised you survived this long, your memory is terrible._

Saphira snorted in amusement, as she replied to the sword. _He's a human, I suggest you get used to it, because that's how they all are_ she teased.

Brisingr continued. _You know that little problem that dragged you out here in the first place? Did you forget your companions that are currently risking their lives and fighting for fucking freedom or some shit like that? Geez, you really have a horrible fucking memory._

Eragon slapped his face, as he realized that while he had been standing there asking questions, his friends had been preparing to risk their lives in an attempt to take one of the major cities of the Empire. Swiftly, he gathered the scattered supplies, and swung onto Saphira's back. He vowed that he would ask his questions as soon as possible. But now, he needed to suit up, and get ready for the oncoming battle.

_0245, next day, 5 kilometers from Feinster, __**Master Chief Petty Officer John 117**_

John readied his sniper rifle, and double checked his assault rifle, as he stood in a mass of men, as they ran about, transporting supplies, and readying their assault on the castle that now loomed above them. Looking through his scope, John could spot similar activity on the walls of the city itself, as their enemies rolled catapults in place, ready to repel any assault that tried to get over the wall. It was too bad for the defenders, because their objective would not be taking the walls. After all, why spend energy climbing a wall, when you could simply tear down the wall?

As the final preparations ended, John found himself standing at the head of Fireteam Crimson, having had excellent results from working with them. At one minute left, the massed troops looked pitifully small against the sea of glinting metal that shone off the walls. _Ah well, the more that are up there, the less that would be alive at the end of the day, _thought John.

As he prepared himself to charge, his comm buzzed to life, projecting Captain Thomas Lasky's voice over the massed troops. "Well, we're all waiting here; you take first shot Master Chief."

John's smirk was covered by his polarized faceplate, as he raised his sniper rifle. He looked through the scope, searching for a good target to hit. He didn't have to search long before his eyes landed on his victim. Increasing his zoom to 10x, he ghosted his finger across the trigger, before taking in a breath. His reply to the captain was heard by everyone around him, as he tightened his finger, squeezing the trigger with a loud _crack._ "Will do Sir."

_10 kilometers from Feinster, __**Eragon**_

Eragon felt tense, as butterflies danced around in his stomach, tempting him to vomit all over his visor, as he approached the doomed city. He could already see the mass of glinting steel of men on the walls of Feinster, as well as the dark mass of green directly in front of him that signified the presence of the UNSC. Slightly behind it, the flags of the Varden fluttered in the breeze, as they prepared to rush into the gap that their technologically superior allies would be sure to create. Distantly, he heard the distinctive _pop_, as a single sniper rifle fired. For a second, time stood still, almost as if both sides were waiting for something to happen. Without warning, a massive fireball rose from the walls in a magnificent display of light and color. Seeing the fireball, Saphira doubled her speed, racing to the fight, as all hell broke loose, and the fireworks began.

_0305, Walls of Feinster, __**Master Chief Petty Officer John 117**_

John inwardly smirked as he saw the dull grey tracer speed off towards the target, a pot of oil that would have been poured on the hapless defenders once they reached the walls. Instead, he had watched his bullet impact the container, striking sparks and turning the area around it into a raging inferno, as the hot oil lit in an instant, and quickly leaked out of the hole his bullet had punched through both sides. The fireball soon incinerated an entire section of men, as he discarded his sniper rifle in favor of a battle rifle. He pushed himself forward, speeding towards the walls at 50kph with Fireteam Crimson close on his heels. Behind them, artillery turned the predawn sky into midday, as shells rose into the sky almost lazily, before turning downwards, with an ominous shrieking noise. Screams and flying rocks filled the air, as the shells exploded, causing the walls to collapse inwards, upon itself with a terrible groan.

John didn't wait for the enemies' arrows to even fly, before he dove down behind a pile of rocks, popping out, and catching a figure standing on one of the sections of walls that had yet to fall. One burst later, the figure threw up its arms, as the man lost his balance, tumbling downwards off the wall, joining the multitude of rocks and body parts that were raining down upon the attackers. He barely had time to notice the green faces of the Vardens' men as they rushed past him, and into the breach. Behind him, artillery adjusted to avoid the troops, as they fired again, this time joined by blue balls of superheated plasma, as the wraiths under Thel's command joined the fight. Suddenly, a figure that had been hidden by the rubble of the destroyed wall jumped up, preparing to jam his spear into a wraith's exposed rear engine exhaust. John acted unconsciously, sighting in on the man's head, and releasing a burst of rounds, causing the man to tumble back onto the rocks that he had been hiding in. Slowly, the enemy regrouped, running down sections of collapsed wall, and joining the fight on the ground, where they were not in danger of plunging to their deaths, as the wall collapsed from under their feet. Finding his view obscured by the mass of silver that constantly moved in chaotic masses, John dashed forwards, followed closely by the Spartan IVs. Finding another piece of collapsed masonry, John ducked behind it, as a flight of arrows sped by his head. While arrows did little to his shielding, and would certainly bounce off of his superior armor, John knew that the city held its fair share of magicians, and he would rather save his shield to deal with them, instead of being chipped away by thousands of arrows. Popping back out of cover, John sighted in on the archers and prepared to attack, when his targets were flung off the walls by a blue dragon, the figure on her back jumping off, as he drew a dazzling sword from his waist, charging forward to meet the enemy. Within minutes, the dragon and rider was joined by Thorn and Murtagh, as they flew in after the new arrivals to support them, and watch their backs. Smiling grimly, John turned his attention back to the main fight, selecting a target at random, and dropping him with a clean shot through the head. Soon, the field was a chaotic mass of men, as the Varden and Empire struggled to gain the upper hand in the streets of Feinster, while the UNSC stood a little behind the main battle, pumping shots into any enemy they saw. John kept his position, slowly increasing his kill count, and waiting for the signal that would signal his second objective, one that would involve only Thel and himself. It would be their job to sneak behind enemy lines, and investigate the presence of any form of weaponry that did not, or should not have existed in medieval times. After all, it would not do for a repeat of Dras Leona and Helgrind. Popping up, John pulled the trigger of his battle rifle again, seeing another man drop from his shot. Just as he was preparing to drop back down into cover, he saw the signal, as a flare went whistling high into the air, illuminating the lightening city.

As the flare went off, John heard the rumbling, which signified the approach of several Scorpion Main Battle Tanks. As they trundled past, John had been intently watching his countdown clock, just as Thel materialized beside him. Their instructions had been to wait five minutes, before setting off behind enemy lines and continuing on their search. Behind him, John heard the members of Fireteam Crimson beginning their own preparations for their own mission, which was to capture any high officials for interrogation. While they were waiting for their countdown to run dry, John poked his head out again, in time to see the nearest scorpion fire with a thunderous roar, and an entire platoon of men exploded in a magnificent ball of orange fire. As the main cannon reloaded, the rattling of the anti-personnel machine gun came to life, sending a flock of deadly bullets down an alley. Screams filled the air, as the men hidden there were ripped to shreds by the high velocity bullets. The scorpion fired again, the roar being lost in the chaos of another salvo of artillery shells courtesy of the self-propelled guns in the rear of the army. John ignored the screams of dying men, as dirt and blood rained down upon them. Likewise, the marines and ODSTs of the UNSC were unaffected, having experienced similar situations during their long career as soldiers. For the Varden and Empire however, the situation was much more pronounced, as some troopers dropped their weapons, and crawled to the nearest shelter, sobbing as the blood of their comrades dusted their face in a gruesome mask. For the Varden, the psychological effects of fighting with the superior technology of the UNSC left many to empty their stomachs, as they saw entire platoons slaughtered by the UNSC's superior weaponry.

As John took all of this in, he distantly noted that the countdown had dropped to zero. Leaping up, he tucked his arms in, as he lunged forward, rolling into a platoon of imperial men. Bowling them aside, he was followed closely by Thel, as they rushed into the dark, enemy infested city of Feinster. Selecting a dark corner, John tucked himself in, and activated his cloaking device. It would not do for the empire to know that their enemies could turn invisible. It would completely ruin the element of surprise brought about by the invisibility. Slowly walking out of his corner, John saw Thel's marker floating seemingly on a wall. Bobbing his head, John signaled for the similarly cloaked Sangheli to follow him. Sneaking through the deserted streets brought a sense of paranoia to the experienced Spartan, as the buildings seemed to loom above them. Hearing footsteps, John swiftly stepped aside, and tossed a lotus anti-tank mine onto the ground, just as a group of imperial troops marched past. For an instant, the lead man froze, as he realized that he had stepped on something that was not the paved cobblestone road. He slowly looked down to see a strange metallic flower on the ground, pulsing with a life of its own. He froze, as the almost unnoticeable beeping of the mine rose to a loud shriek, before just realizing what he had stepped on. Futilely, all of the men scattered. As the mine detonated, John heard a voice carrying clearly over the explosion.

"SON OF A BI–!"

John laughed softly, before skirting around the crater, and continuing on towards the keep.

_0600, Feinster outer city, __**Eragon**_

Eragon laughed, as he spun around, Brisingr flashing in his hands, as he cleaved the head off a soldier who had been about to run him through with a spear. Brisingr's mental shout brought him to a halt, as he stared at his sword strangely.

_ Brisingr! _Roared the sword in its peculiar, metallic mental voice.

Eragon didn't know why his sword was saying its own name, until a wall of fire erupted behind him, incinerating the small group of soldiers that had been about to release a flight of arrows onto him.

_Watch your back, you fucking idiot! You aren't in a fucking plain right now, you have to look up above you, and down below!_ Snarled his sword at him.

Eragon nodded, feeling ashamed that he was being instructed on how to fight by the sword that he had created himself. Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Eragon turned and plunged back into the fray, in time to see Murtagh flying above him, grinning as he sped overhead, his glowing palm outstretched.

Eragon shook his head at the sight, as he plunged into the depths of the city, Saphira close behind him.

Eragon decided that he hated fighting in cities within minutes of entering the cramped roads of the city. He was walking down an alley, while Saphira kept watch on his rear from the main road. The alley was seemingly deserted, but as Eragon walked forwards, he suddenly found himself fighting for his life, as the doors banged open, and hundreds of men streamed out, waving their swords, and shouting their war cries. At the same time, the windows, which had previously been devoid of life was now swarming with archers, pouring arrows down at him. Eragon dimly heard Saphira's roar, as she breathed a pillar of flame down the alley, but he was too far in, and the flames petered out after a few meters. As Eragon stabbed another enemy through the gut, he turned, to find Saphira attempting to force her way through the buildings to reach him. Eragon cursed, as he realized that the alley was too small for him to fight effectively, and began to forge a path through the sea of swords towards his dragon. At first, it seemed that he would make it, until one of his swings went wide, and bit deep into the stone wall beside him. He heard a dim scream behind the wall, as he realized that he had almost stabbed one of the civilians that had been hiding behind it. Cursing, he tried to yank his sword out of the stone, but was forced to duck, as a halberd went whistling past his head. Straightening himself up, he lashed out with his foot, caving in his attacker's chest with a savage kick. Turning his attention back to his sword, he struggled with it once again, until he heard Saphira's warning shout.

Turning, he saw an arrow, heading towards him at an impossible speed. To the back, he saw a robed man with his eyes shut, chanting an unknown spell. Eragon decided to ignore the arrow, leaving his wards to deal with it. However, his eyes widened in shock when the arrow passed through the wards, without even beginning to slow down. He tried to move his head, but realized that it would probably be futile. Swiftly, Eragon attempted to stop the arrow thorough magic, but his concentration slipped causing the men surrounding him to freeze instead of the arrow that was now heading between his eyes. Dimly, Eragon realized that he was going to die, as the arrow neared his face. In that moment, his sword acted by itself, as it drew upon the energy that was within its maker. It channeled the energy from Eragon into its blade, and it simply turned into fire. Eragon watched in shock, as the blade made of brightsteel simply disappeared, replaced by an ethereal, transparent blade of blue fire, almost like liquid sapphires. Without a solid substance, the blade easily slid from the wall, and Eragon swung it desperately at the steel arrow that was dangerously close to skewering his head to the wall. Like the wall, Brisingr passed right through the arrow, and came out the other side, without even cutting the wood. However, the second that the sword came into contact with the arrow, the wood and fletching combusted, burning into ashes within seconds. The arrowhead fared no better, as it melted the second the blade came into contact with it, cooling down the instant it left through the other side. The magician suddenly found his arrow non-existent, as his ward-penetrating spell lost the object of its focus. Instead, the melted arrowhead simply froze, as Eragon's wards stopped the arrowhead the second the enemy's spell stopped interfering with it. Eragon heaved a sigh of relief, before turning his attention back to his sword, which had reverted back into its previous brightsteel blade.

_ I don't have time to ask you about that, but I will the second that this battle is over._ Eragon promised his sword silently.

_Will do, kid_. Came the quick reply.

Pushing his near death experience to the back of his mind, Eragon continued to cut down the enemies blocking him from Saphira.

Slowly, Eragon waded through his enemies, and soon found himself beside Saphira. The moment that he was beside her, Saphira opened her jaws, and a jet of sapphire flames erupted from her maw, leaving nothing but a glowing pool of molten metal down the alleyway. The houses on either side were not unharmed, as the stone walls were glowing from the heat, and the wooden frames covered in flames.

Stiffly, Eragon climbed onto Saphira's back, and the two jumped into the air, gliding over the battlefield to recuperate from the attack. Looking down, he noticed the UNSC seemingly unconcerned about the close quarters and close ranges of their engagement, as streaks of yellow, blue, pink, and green light signified the firefights that had erupted on the streets. The large artillery had long fallen silent, and now the only explosions came from the occasional 120mm main gun of the scorpions trundling down the wider roads, or the smaller grenades used by the men on foot. Eragon noticed that the UNSC seemed perfectly at home, amongst the cramped spaces of the city. Dropping down, he zeroed in on one group of marines, intent on learning how they fought so efficiently in both long range engagements, and close combat.

The sergeant in charge smirked, as he saw them descend, before acknowledging them with a shout. "Well if it ain't the wannabe air support! What can I do for you?"

Eragon returned the greeting, as he dismounted from Saphira's back. "I wanted to see how you handle such cramped spaces; I almost died just a couple minutes back after being caught in an ambush down an alley. I was hoping that you could help me, and teach me a few ways to stay alive."

The sergeant laughed, at his words, before nodding his agreement. "You're gonna need some people to back you up boy, or you won't survive a day in this urban warfare shit. This isn't like some open battlefield that you are used to, you have to keep your eye out for enemies, that could be anywhere. They could be in front, above, below, behind, and any other direction that your mind can fucking think of. In urban warfare, surprise is essential. If you get taken by surprise, you are dead. End of discussion. So you are going to stay with us, greenhorn, until you can find a group that will watch your back. So you might as well make yourself useful, and help us while we keep you alive."

Without waiting for a reply, the man turned back to his men, conversing with them in a brief huddle, before turning back to Eragon. "We're going to find a place to sleep at now, you aren't going anywhere kid, and you will be staying with us. Your dragon should probably return to our camp, as she won't be able to fit inside a house." Turning, man signaled his troops, as they grouped up.

Eragon joined them, as they sprinted down the road, before knocking on the door of a house that was relatively intact. When no one answered, the troops simply smashed the door down, and entered. Hesitantly, Eragon walked in, to see the men checking every room, and ascertaining that the house was abandoned. Once they had made sure that it was abandoned, they all grouped up on the ground floor, and one man set up a machine gun in the window, ready to mow down anyone foolish enough to try and sneak up on the vigilant sentries. In the doorway, the men were setting up bags filled with dirt and rubble, and piling them up to create a barrier, as they prepared for the coming night. After the preparations were complete, the men set up a guard roster, and those selected took their positions in the entrances to where they were currently residing. The rest spread out, and fell asleep, trusting their comrades to keep them alive through the night. Eragon sighed, as he mirrored their actions. Despite it being a war, it still felt wrong to be breaking into houses no matter what. Pushing his thoughts to the back of his mind, he closed his eyes, and felt sleep overtake him.

_2300, Feinster Keep, __**Master Chief Petty Officer John 117**_

Soundlessly, John glided through the hallways of the inner keep, followed by Thel. They had not managed to find any evidence of advanced weaponry yet, and thus the two longtime companions prepared to wreak havoc and destruction behind enemy lines. Stealthily, they exited the keep, and crouched in the street, their forms cloaked by the active camouflage systems that their armor utilized. Slowly, they seemed to melt out of the walls, as they disengaged the system, and turned to each other. Acknowledging their partner with a nod, John raised his fist, to reveal a detonator. He smiled humorlessly under his visor, and found a matching grin through the mandibles of his companion.

"Boom" he said humorlessly, as he turned unconcernedly from the keep, with Thel right beside him.

Behind the pair, the keep glowed a brilliant white, briefly lighting the dark sky above them, as the explosives they utilized detonated, showering them with rubble, as the dark keep slowly collapsed within itself, burying countless imperial troops within it's bowels.

A/N: Thats it for today, this one was shorter than my normal chapters, but it was hastily put together after I realized that my backups were also corrupted (I'm going to blame Dell for that one as well), and it isn't as well written as some of my others. Also, the thing with the sword will be explained next chapter, or the chapter after that. I just hated how Paolini decided to make the sword unique out of every other Riders' sword ever made, and then decided that it was going to do jack shit. I mean seriously, apart from the Battle of Feinster, the sword was practically useless. Also, he never explained why it would burst into flames every time Eragon said Brisingr. So I decided to give it a larger role. If you don't like that idea, save the flames for when all is explained, because there are still some parts of the sword that I had not revealed yet. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I hope you can forgive me for the lack of updating. (I also have another trip for 10 days sometime early August, so there will be a gap then too. Apart from that, expect constant updates.) Good bye all!


	21. Dust and Echoes

A/N: I was originally going to post this chapter tomorrow, but seeing as today is independence day, I decided to give you all a gift, and push it out a day early. So enjoy the second part of the Battle of Feinster!

Chapter 21: Dust and Echoes

_2330, Battle of Feinster,__**Master Chief John 117**_

John watched as the ruined keep was quickly excavated by Thel's Sentinel drones. It was a bad use of the flying machines, but it was a quick way of doing it, and the rubble had to be removed before the next phase of the plan could be implemented. Thankfully, there were no souls to hear the detonation of the central aspect of the city.

"Well, that's the last of them, we're ready to begin the next phase of this plan." Said Cortana. "Transferring data to all sentinel teams, the keep should be rebuilt in about fifteen minutes."

John nodded, before melting back into the cover of darkness. The two armored figures melted into the stone wall like they had never been there before.

Soon, the keep had been 'repaired', and the men repositioned within, seemingly unmoved. However, the keep was now a ticking time bomb, ready to unleash devastation and horror upon the Imperial troops. While they could have simply destroyed the keep, the higher ups had decided to fight the war on a psychological scale and make their fight easier in the long run.

_0300, Battle of Feinster, __**Eragon**_

Eragon awoke silently, listening for the usual sounds of the others still sleeping peacefully. Instead, he awoke to find a quiet murmuring from a group of men. Opening his eyes, he discovered that he had been the last to wake up, and that his temporary companions were already gathered around a map spread out on a table. They were speaking in quiet tones, and carefully analyzing the map, often glancing upwards at the small green chip that was on their helmets. Satisfied, the group leader folded the map, before turning towards Eragon.

"We're going to help clear the southern part of the city. You are going to be joining us. Follow our lead, and don't try anything rash. You will not survive to tell about it if you do." He said.

Nodding, Eragon belted on his sword, and began to put on the separate pieces of his armor.

The squad leader frowned; noting Eragon's unpreparedness as he hastily grabbed his gear.

"You are taking too long to get ready kid. First lesson of urban combat, always be ready for an attack." He said.

Eragon glared at the man, still not fully awake yet. "I'm gearing up as fast as I can, so if you would kindly wait for a moment, I'll be done."

The sergeant sighed, before pulling out his pistol, and firing a shot at Eragon's feet.

The retort of the gun shocked Eragon, as he jumped back, dropping his chestplate, as he reached to Brisingr strapped at his waist. Drawing it instantly, he swung the gleaming blade in a murderous arc at the man's neck. To his surprise, the blade simply huffed in his mind, before simply retracting into the hilt, causing his wild swing to pass harmlessly through the air.

The sergeant seemed equally surprised, as he holstered his magnum. Drawing his assault rifle from his back, he spoke, "As fast as you can gear up, my bullet is faster. Thus if I were an enemy, you would be dead."

Eragon narrowed his eyes in anger, trying to calm his racing heart. "Well what would you suggest, O all-knowing one?" he asked sarcastically.

"Sleep with the armor on." Came the brisk reply. "Better to sleep uncomfortably, and live to fight another day, than to sleep and not wake up again."

Eragon's jaw dropped, as he contemplated what the man in front of him was asking him to do.

_That man's right, you jackass. _Came the voice of his sword over his connection. _You are going to end up dead if you remain unprepared like that all the time._

Eragon frowned mentally, _Even you are against me? _He snarled, angry that his sword's betrayal. _As we are on this topic, why did you not kill that man when I swung you at him?_

The sword gave its equivalent of a shrug, before replying. _What was I supposed to do? Let your amazingly idiotic brashness kill an ally that was trying to help you? You really are a fucking idiotic brat. Fucktard._

Eragon seethed quietly, before finally realizing that the sergeant was right. It would be safer to sleep in his armor. Sighing, he apologized to the man, before finishing up his preparations.

To his credit, the sergeant took the apology well, considering that he had almost been decapitated by the kid. He merely told Eragon that it should not happen again, and that a repeat of that scene would end with a bullet to his head.

Eragon humbly accepted the man's words, before joining up with the rest of the squad, who glanced at him warily, stroking the triggers on their guns. Honestly, Eragon couldn't blame them, as he would have done the same thing in their position. Silently, he vowed to regain their trust, even if it would cost him his life.

Preoccupied with his thoughts, he didn't notice that everyone had scattered with a cry of "Contact!", ramming themselves into the ground, and grabbing ahold of their helmets. When he noticed their strange behavior, he glanced around questioningly, before his eyes widened at the flashing ball of green light that was speeding towards him. Stumbling backwards, he was hit with the ball of light for an instant, causing his wards to flare up. Before the ball could penetrate his magical shield, he felt his legs yanked out from under him and he fell down, cracking his head painfully on a protruding piece of wood. Groggily, he tried to blink the stars out of his eyes, as his hand instinctively drew Brisingr. Before he could even pinpoint where the light had come from, the dull thunder of assault rifle fire popped up around him, as the men fired down into the dark alley where Eragon could now see a shadowy figure shuddering, as bullets impacted the plain black robe that signified him as a magician of Galbatorix. Seeing that his attacker was dead, Eragon moved to replace his sword, before he was stopped by the hand of his rescuer.

"Keep your weapon out and ready to use at all times, or you will not have time to react to any ambushes that are sure to occur." The man said.

Nodding, Eragon stilled his arm, as he flattened himself further into the ground.

His savior looked at him in amusement, before rising to a crouch, peering cautiously over the small crater that he was in. "All clear!" he shouted, before standing up, followed by the rest of the squad.

The leader glanced at the small green chip, before addressing his men. "Alright, we're going to head down that way, for two streets, before turning right. There should be a small plaza in enemy hands over there, and our job is to clear it out."

Nodding, the men ran towards the end of the street in single file, before flattening themselves against the wall. Not expecting the sudden stop, Eragon pushed out forwards, before he was tripped again by a member of the squad. For the second time in an hour, Eragon found himself blinking the stars out of his eyes, and trying to determine the ground from the sky.

"What the hell are you thinking?" The sergeant snarled at him, before continuing on with his rant, "There could be an entire army waiting for you to pop your head out! As handy as your magic is, it wouldn't save you if they have any heavy artillery or magicians! Always treat every corner as a hostile environment until you are certain that it is clear!"

Eragon paled as he realized just how much he would be risking if he had rushed outwards. Now that he was aware, He realized that he could feel the presence of imperial troops near them. A lot of them.

Gulping, he spoke to the sergeant. "I can sense a group of about fifty men waiting for us around the corner, two of them seem to be capable of using magic."

Smiling, the sergeant replied. "Thanks for the heads up, but we already know."

Shocked, Eragon turned to them, the question forming on his lips immediately.

The sergeant beat him to speak, "It's our motion sensor. The little red dots represent the enemy as they move around. With it, we can see everything that moves, whether it is an ally, or not."

Eragon nodded, satisfied with the explanation. "So what do we do now? The men on the other side have us pinned down, and we cannot reach them."

The sergeant grinned, gesturing at the relatively intact buildings that surrounded them. "Remember where we are?" he asked, "There's more than one way to do things. You can use your magic to levitate some of us to the rooftops, then surprise the fuckers with some fresh lead from the rooftops."

Nodding, Eragon concentrated on those that the man gestured to, before casting his spell. Slowly, the men rose from the ground, and were soon well hidden on the roofs.

Smirking, the sergeant pulled a green object from his vest, before pulling his arm back, in an overhead throw. Beside him, another mirrored his actions with a tubular device. As one, they threw their payloads, and Eragon watched as they ricocheted off the wall, and onto the road that hid the enemy ambush. In moments, Eragon heard a deafening explosion as the grenades detonated. Immediately, the men hidden up above stood with a wordless roar, as they stood, firing their weapons into the cloud of dust and smoke caused by the explosions. Eragon spun around the corner, and saw the survivors screaming, as they ran around, or simply lay on the ground in the fetal position, crying with their hands clamped around their ears. Without mercy, the squad opened fire, cutting down the helpless men in front of them in seconds.

Eragon was shocked at the brutality and coldness with which the UNSC butchered the soldiers. To him, it was more of a massacre than a fight, as those he levitated jumped down to the ground, rolling to disperse the force of the landing. No less than half a minute after the grenades had been thrown, the 'fight' was over, and the only signs of the UNSC's presence were the bodies slumped over their fortifications and the bullet holes around them. Soon, the flies began to descend upon the prone forms. They had a feast to eat after all.

Continuing forwards, Eragon noticed the lead marine freeze and stiffen in the middle of the street. Wordlessly, the woman frantically gestured at the group to follow her, as she sped into the nearest home. Stealthily, she ran up the stairs, and gestured downwards, where an imperial platoon was currently marching in straight and ordered rows, no doubt to reinforce the front lines. Quietly, the sergeant in charge ran to where Eragon crouched, shielded from view by the wall.

"Alright kid, you are going to see how a real ambush should go, so watch carefully." He whispered.

Nodding, Eragon watched, as one of the squad walked up, unslinging the light machine gun strapped to his back, and securing the weapon to the windowsill. Silently, Eragon watched, as row after row of men marched past, at least two hundred men. Eragon watched in horrified fascination, as the operator of the mounted weapon flipped off the safety, and signaled the sergeant. Swiftly, the sergeant grabbed another grenade, and pulled off the pin, before slinging it directly into the mass of men. In the instant the detonation went off, the gunner of the machine gun depressed the trigger, filling the room with the rattling clank of machine gun fire, as the powerful bullets sped outwards, and directly into the wavering front of men. The other members of the squad followed the gunner's lead, as they rose from their hidden positions, and the click of rifles being cocked sounded clearly over the rattle of the machine gun.

Two minutes later, all that remained of the Imperial column were the bloodstained bodies and ruined steel armor, caused by the deadly bullets puncturing the steel plate with unbelievable ease. Grimly, the squad packed up the machine gun, and descended down the stairs, continuing on their journey to the plaza.

_0400, "Wet Navy" UNSC Glorious Victory, previous day_

The battleship _UNSC Glorious Victory_ and her sister ships were within striking range of the port city of Feinster. The Captain looked over the plans of assault, sent to him via satellite. Nodding, he heard the distant pop of small arms fire, as the diversionary assault upon the walls continued. "Begin the shore bombardment, and make sure that the only parts hit are the ships and port. Friendly squads should already be operating in the area."

After his words were spoken, he felt the entire ship turn, as the onboard AI reprogrammed the sailing path of the newly commissioned vessel. With the whirr of machinery, the guns on the deck elevated to the correct elevation and for a split second, time held still, and even the very seas stilled as if in anticipation. Then the shockwave shook the ship, as every one of the twelve 20 inch guns fired in synchronization. The ship rolled onto its side from the shockwave, before the onboard compensators brought the ship back to its original position. Zooming in with his visor, the captain clearly saw the massive salvo hit the ships moored within the docks. He also witnessed the mass panic, as several ships instantly sank from the shells landing directly on the deck. Even more began to list, as the stress from the sheer explosive force caused leaks to form within the normally waterproof hulls. Soon, the cannons finished reloading, and began a rolling fire, as one cannon fired after the other, creating a continuous rain of heavy artillery shells. More ships began to sink, as others set sail, setting an interception course against the gargantuan UNSC battleship. The AI sighed, as she readjusted the cannons, to aim for the incoming vessels.

"Disappointing, you'd think that they would at least spread out to provide more of a challenge for me. It's taking exactly 0.00000145% of my processing power to calculate the settings to hit them. Her avatar flickered, before her contemptuous voice filled the bridge again. It takes more processing power for me to play a game of Tetris than kill these fools."

As if to prove her point, her avatar was replaced by a grid, as the iconic strains of Korobeiniki filled the bridge. The crewmembers chuckled, as they turned to watch the classical game, turning their attentions away from the roar of the cannon, as ship after ship sank outside due to the fire of the UNSC _Glorious Victory_'s massive guns.

Within minutes, every one of the imperial ships were either sunk or sinking, and the fleet of modern warships closed in for the kill. Landing crafts were swiftly filled by eager marines and launched, as the game of Tetris continued up on the bridge. The marines chuckled, as the confident AI rerouted the interior speakers to the powerful external ones. As one, the landing craft headed towards the beach in squares of four, as Korobeiniki played in the background.

_1200, Present day, __**Eragon**_

Eragon crouched behind the rubble of a destroyed building as his allies surveyed the plaza that was in front of them. The resistance had steadily increased as they neared their target, and by the time the plaza was in sight, they were fighting for every centimeter of ground. It seemed that there was no end to the waves of enemies that rushed out after them, intent on taking the small group out. Finally, they had reached the plaza, only to face a new problem. The plaza had been dug out to form several rings of trenches, filled to the brim with Imperial troops, each one eager to avenge their comrades whose bodies littered the ground behind the small group.

Eragon cursed, "It's going to take a small army to root those men out of their positions. We don't have the numbers to fight such a well prepared enemy.

The sergeant simply shrugged, "I don't see how they are prepared. They are dug into the ground, yes, but that will only serve to amplify the blast of our explosives when they get into the trenches. Those idiots are simply sitting ducks right now."

Slowly, the sergeant withdrew a device that looked similar to a gun, however the screen was much larger, and the barrel had been replaced with a glass lens. Eragon looked on in confusion, as the sergeant aimed it at the innermost circle, where Eragon could see multiple heavy ballista and catapults. As he depressed the trigger, a green dot appeared on one of the long timbers of a catapult. After a few seconds, he removed the weapon and sat back, content to watch the men wait.

Eragon looked at him confused, and then turned his attention to the entrenched enemy. They seemed unaware that anything was happening, as they casually ate their midday meal, and chatted with one another. The peace was suddenly disturbed by a whistling sound, and many looked around, wondering what it was that was making the noise. Their answer came in the form of a massive explosion, as the catapult originally targeted simply vanished in a shower of wooden splinters. The men cried out in pain, as sharp pieces of wood embedded themselves in anything that was uncovered, including limbs, necks, and eyes. The victims didn't even have time to regroup or react, as the second shell hit. This time, whether through luck or fate, the shell struck the barrels of pitch stacked neatly against each other. Originally, the pitch would have been coated onto the rocks and lit, before they were flung from the catapults. Instead, the explosion caused by the shell flung large sheets of the sticky material into the air, thoroughly coating many of the men. Their misfortune continued, as the explosion lit the sticky pitch, creating an oily cloud of smoke, as the screams of the unfortunate enemies rose into the uncaring blue sky.

Eragon felt his stomach heave, as he breathed some of the fumes in, and looked over to see his companions grimly staring at the rising column of ash and smoke.

Slowly, the column of greasy flames died down, leaving only glowing sheets of molten metal that slowly trickled into the blackened trenches. Across the plaza, charred skeletons lay in various grotesque positions, and a few remaining embers smoldered. Eragon averted his eyes, sickened at the sight before him. Turning his head, he heaved up the remains of the pathetic breakfast of ration bars that he had shared with the squad. Regaining his composure, he turned his head to see his companions staring coldly at the still smoldering field.

"How are you not sick from seeing such a sight?" Eragon asked, shocked at the marines' seemingly uncaring attitude of the devastation in front of him.

The sergeant simply stared at Eragon grimly, before looking back, "If this already sickens you, then you better pray that you will never see the need for a planetary glassing. Back during the Great War, our enemy glassed hundreds of our colonies, killing trillions of men, women, and children. They killed us indiscriminately, seeking to wipe out every single human, until our species became extinct. Usually, they simply arrived in orbit around the targeted planet, and unleashed their energy projectors, giving the colonies no chance to escape or fight back. There was simply nothing to shoot at, as the heavily armored ships were too high up for any ground to space weapon to be effective. Very rarely, they invaded with their ground troops, overwhelming whatever resistance was on the ground. Those times, they slaughtered countless military personnel and civilians, searching for artifacts that remained from the massive forerunner empire, which had existed tens of thousands of years ago. Whenever our armies were close to ground victory, they simply flooded their targeted artifact with troops and dragged it into space, before continuing on with the glassing of the planet. Our forces stood no chance at all, and we were losing up until the very end of the war, where we won simply because of the Great Schism, and the destruction of the last great leader of the Covenant by the Master Chief and the Arbiter themselves. In reality, had the Covenant not split apart, we would have lost, and the human race would have become extinct in our universe."

Eragon was shocked at the sheer scale of the tragedy that had forced itself upon his allies. The sheer strength of the UNSC to withstand such losses and continue fighting was amazing. Mentally, Eragon shuddered, before turning his attention back onto the charred plaza.

Slowly, Eragon saw even more Imperial troops walk into the plaza, their shocked eyes clearly seen even from his position several hundred meters away. Eragon turned back to see the sergeant raise his rifle with cold eyes, as he sighted in, and squeezed the trigger. His actions were mirrored by his squad, as the automatic fire raked in even more kills, as the shell shocked survivors attempted to rush towards their position and take them out. The gunner on the squad simply braced his machine gun against a fallen wall, and opened fire. Eragon watched as rows of men threw up their arms, and blood sprayed out, until everything was covered in a fine mist of red. The sound of metal hitting metal and flesh became a constant thunder, as Eragon heaved again, this time only bringing clear liquid out. Panting, he raised his head and forced himself to watch, as his enemies were cut down without mercy. _Was this how it was like during the Great War that the UNSC suffered through? _He wondered.

_1500, Feinster Upper District, __**Master Chief Petty Officer John 117**_

John sighed as he casually raised his magnum and fired, causing another hostile target to drop like a fly. _Another clean headshot_ he thought, as a small skull surrounded by a purple star appeared on the bottom left of his visor. This was getting boring, very boring. He switched to his shotgun, before spinning around and blasting through a man who had been about to try and bash his skull in with an axe. _As if that could ever happen_ he thought with a sigh. Now that the keep had been "Improved" his next objective was clear: Kill everything that he sees, and herd the enemy to the "improved" keep. While usually that command would have been lovely for him during the Great War, where every headshot on a grunt would result in a colorful shower of confetti, and where he would count the seconds before another Covvie fell under his rifle, this was just plain boring. Headshots here didn't result in anything but a spray of grey tissue, and his kills were coming up so quickly that he couldn't even remember when he had gone three seconds _without_ killing someone. John sighed, as he tossed his last grenade into a group of soldiers who were trying to test their luck. John watched uncaringly, as they tried to scatter, running into walls and each other in an attempt to escape. The resulting explosion left nothing alive, as John turned around, and walked away to his next batch of wannabe ambushes. Sighting another cluster of red, John turned around and grabbed onto a protruding ledge that was sturdy enough to support his weight. Carefully, he hauled himself up to the roof with the grace of a cat, before slowly walking until he could see the cluster of enemies that had been waiting to ambush him.

Shaking his head in disappointment, John reached down and grabbed as much slate from the roofing as he could, before hurling them down onto the heads of the would-be assassins. Without waiting to see the results, he jumped off the roof and landed on an unfortunate soldier, crushing him to a red paste beneath his armored boots. As the shocked gazes of his enemy landed on him, he raised a hand and gave a bored "hi".

The soldiers blinked, and began to point their weapons at the long time veteran. At least they pointed their weapons at where he had been. In reality, he was already wading through the group, punching skulls in with the casual air of someone playing whack-a-mole. A small burst of automatic fire later, and the group of Imperial soldiers were all dead. Sighing in boredom, John began to look for more victims.

_1750, Feinster Keep, __**Eragon**_

The city was all but theirs. After securing the plaza, Eragon had been joined by Saphira as they pushed onwards towards the keep. As they neared it, Eragon saw the remaining resistance grouped in a ring around the outer walls, as they prepared to sacrifice their lives in service of the Mad King. Surrounding them, was the men of the Varden, while the UNSC were in the upper stories of the buildings nearest the keep, were their weapons would be uninhibited during the upcoming battle. As Eragon watched, the last of the Imperials withdrew into the keep, before the great doors closed with a mighty boom. Soon, the ranks of the Varden parted, to reveal Nasuada followed by a grinning Murtagh. Seeing his brother, Eragon waved, and was pleased to see his return wave before turning his attention back onto the imposing keep, which seemed to pulse with a brilliant blue glow.

"Defenders of Feinster, we wish you no harm and only wish to depose of the dark King Galbatorix. We bear you no grudge, and should you surrender now, we will treat you all with respect and honor. Should you wish, you can even join us on our campaign towards the black gates of Urû'baen itself, provided that we scan your minds for any sign of deceit beforehand."

Nasuada's voice carried clearly over the tense field with the help of the UNSC's speakers. However, the only reply from the keep was a hail of arrows which were stopped by Murtagh's gloved hand as he casually flicked the arrows aside with a spell.

Nasuada seemed to deflate at the reply, before turning back and speaking to Thel. "Very well, continue with the plan, and crush every last bit of resistance in this city."

Thel nodded, his long neck bobbing up and down as his mandibles shut with an audible click.

Putting his hand on her shoulder comfortingly, Thel walked forwards, before stopping at the very head of the entire army. Raising his left arm, a glowing hologram appeared, with intricate glyphs swirling around a central circle. Reaching up with his hand, Thel's fingers swiftly danced across the glowing hologram. When he finished, he raised his head, and stared at the keep, except that it was no longer a keep in any sense of the word. Instead, it simply seemed to disintegrate. As Eragon watched, the rough stone walls melted into gleaming silver metal, with blue beams of light crisscrossing the surface like veins. Slowly, the walls separated and became individual boons, which assembled themselves around a glowing central sphere. Within seconds the seemingly solid keep had become a swarm of sentinels, which floated upwards and away from the panicking Imperial troops, as they suddenly discovered the lack of flooring holding them up. Brilliant beams of gold branched out everywhere, as the sentinels targeted every Imperial soldier in the vicinity. Those that were up high died before they hit the ground, great molten holes punched straight through their armor, like a beam of plasma contacting butter. The ones on the ground didn't fare much better, as they were cut to pieces by the sentinels. Those that survived to react swung their weapons against the constructs hopelessly, as blue net-like shields sprang up around the sentinels, shielding them from harm. Eragon gasped, as the solid stone wall that had separated the Varden from the Imperials swiftly followed suit, disintegrating into a cloud of sentinels, allowing the Varden to enter what had been the keep. With a mighty roar, the Varden rushed forward, and the UNSC began firing short bursts into the enemy to prevent friendly fire. Within moments, the remaining Imperial troops had been destroyed, and the city had been taken. Despite the victory, Eragon felt a chill seep into his bones, as the sky seemed to darken. Around him, no one else seemed to notice, as the Varden and UNSC alike cheered for their victory in capturing the port city of Feinster. As Eragon continued to join in the celebrations, the feeling of disaster grew until Eragon could barely stand it anymore. Across the now flattened keep, Eragon saw John and Thel stiffen from where they had been talking quietly. To their right, Murtagh palmed the pommel of Zar'roc nervously, as he stared around the cleared keep. Then the ground exploded in a shower of dirt and rocks, as the cries from those caught up in the blast cried out in pain. Somehow, Eragon managed to see his cousin Roran, as he dove towards Nasuada, and flung her far away from the blast, before the shockwave carried him high up into the air.

Eragon gave a cry, before desperately drawing upon the magic within him, and using it wordlessly to slow down Roran's descent. On the ground beside a pile of rubble, Nasuada lay limp, stunned from a beam hitting her head as she landed. On the outskirts, the UNSC grabbed their weapons again, as they trained every available gun at the cloud of smoke that was now rising above the city.

As the dust cleared, Eragon saw that the explosion had revealed a room, built underneath the keep, with eight hallways branching out equally from the center of the room. On the tiled floor sat a large black glyph, which seemed to pulse with an ominous force. While Eragon watched, Angela suddenly seemed to materialize, still dressed for combat, with her staff-sword ready. She too was staring at the glyph intently.

"Well that's interesting," she stated, "That seems to be a teleportation grid, that was recently destroyed. I wonder where it would have led to."

Beside her, Solembum growled in his cat form, as if in agreement.

As the final clouds of dust settled, a figure walked out of what seemed to be the largest tunnel. His glowing red eyes glared out at the assembled troops, staring straight at the eccentric witch. "Wouldn't you like to know?" asked the shade as he stepped outwards, his pointed teeth flashing in the sun as he smiled a twisted and cruel smirk.

A/N: Thats it for this chapter, as the Battle of Feinster's true beginning is just around the corner! I hope that you enjoyed the end of the beginning! Please review and tell me what you think. Also, I would appreciate any and all constructive criticisms regarding this chapter! Hopefully if I totally fucked up some part, you guys will tell me and I can fix it! Hope you enjoyed, and I'll be starting on chapter 22 now! ;)

A/N#2: Also, if you didn't like the sentinels becoming the keep, I suggest that you go to the library, and check out Ghosts of Onyx. There's a reason that the planet no longer exists. Again, I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, and please review!

A/N#3: HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY!


	22. Broken Gates

Disclaimer: I do not own Eragon or Halo.

A/N: Hello, This chapter was supposed to be released yesterday, but my internet crashed, forcing me to wait until the idiots at my internet provider fixed the issue... Anyway, I hope that you enjoy this chapter, and as a word of warning, there might be a section that is... unpopular. Please stick with me until the end, and I will explain my reasoning. Also, the situation will be a one time thing, and it will not last for very long. And now, here is the chapter!

Chapter 22: Broken Gates

As the dust cleared, John was able to clearly see the shade for the first time. Unconsciously, his fingers tightened over his rifle's trigger and without pausing to think, raised the gun up and fired. As the bullets sped towards the shade's heart, John holstered his rifle, drawing out his shotgun to increase the chances of a stray pellet impacting the shade in the critical area. John hoped that his shotgun would not be needed, and he would be able to kill the shade with his initial three round burst. Unfortunately, the shade saw the bullets and leaned to the side, allowing the bullets to punch holes beside its heart. John watched in morbid fascination, as the bullet wounds stitched themselves back together, new skin forming over the wounds in seconds. Raising his shotgun, he prepared to face the abomination head on.

Looking around, the shade laughed, the shrill sound echoing off the rubble that surrounded him. Taking a step forward, the shade raised his pale arms to the sky, raising his head and letting his blood red hair fall back onto his shoulders. Laughing maniacally, he turned his attention onto the armored figure directly in front of him. As he prepared himself to kill the puny human, he heard a distant roar, and found himself without his left arm, courtesy of a round from a scorpion tank's main gun. Growling at the small annoyance the wound caused him; he raised his hands and conjured a ball of blazing red light. The ball sped towards the tank, and struck the armored behemoth directly on the upper glacis. Thankfully for the driver, the reactive armor saved him, reducing the power of the glowing projectile, leaving a patch of molten titanium on the front of his vehicle. Hurriedly, the driver backed up, unwilling to risk further damage against the shade.

Growling in anger at his prey's escape, the shade turned his head to look back at the green _thing_ in front of him. Lazily making another ball of light without speaking a single word, he sent it flying at the armored juggernaut. Once again, he growled in frustration as he saw his target roll out of the way. Raising his hand, he prepared a third ball of light, but before he could, he was met with a wall of bullets rushing inwards. Abandoning his attack, he wordlessly raised a wall of earth using magic. A moment later, he felt the bullets impact against his makeshift barrier. Releasing the magic, the shade watched as the dirt that he had drawn out crumbled back into the ground. Grinning evilly at the prospect of a challenging fight, he reached behind himself and drew his sabre. Its long, slender blade was a stark contrast to the grotesque skull that formed the pommel, and the scarred bone that was the cross guard.

Eragon tensed as he saw the shade casting magic without uttering any words of the Ancient Language. He supposed that it did not matter to the shade if it backfired or not. After all, shades usually did not care about control. If a shade accidentally blew something other than its target up with a wordless spell, well then it was too bad. The shade would not care at all. It was truly a spirit of destruction. Tightening his grip on Brisingr, Eragon stepped forward to meet the shade. At the same time, John and Thel stepped up, while the Sentinels circled around, preventing the shade from escaping the confines of the makeshift ring.

_Now would be a great time to do whatever you did in the alley Brisingr,_ Thought Eragon.

_Damn right it would, the little fucker of a shade will die soon, and I'm gonna dance on his grave afterwards_ thought his foul-mouthed sword.

Grimacing at his sword's word choice, Eragon responded, _not how I would have put it, but fair enough._

The sentient sword seemed to grin in delight, before its blade shimmered, disappearing, and becoming replaced with the ghostly flames that had saved Eragon's life in the previous engagement.

Beside him, John and Thel both drew energy swords, as they prepared to kill stab the shade through its only weakness.

The shade's crimson lips twisted in a cruel laugh, as he studied his opponents. "Three against two? This is hardly a challenge for me; maybe I'll be able to amuse myself further by killing your allies after you die."

Eragon visibly stiffened, before glaring at the shade with the most cutting glare he could. "Over my dead body!" He snarled.

"Why of course, that goes without saying" The shade said smoothly, almost as if he was comforting a small child.

With a roar of rage, Eragon swung his sword in a wild overhead cut. His blade passed harmlessly by the shade, as he simply leaned to one side, avoiding the ghostly blade. Without hitting the expected resistance, Eragon overbalanced, and fell forward, his blade leaving behind a glowing line in the ground as it passed harmlessly through the solid rock ground. Eragon's eyes widened as he realized his mistake. While he was unbalanced, the shade raised his own sword, preparing to end his life with a savage down stroke. Desperately, Eragon tried to balance himself again, but as the shade began his cut, Eragon knew that it was no use, he would die here, and the efforts of the UNSC and Varden would all go to waste. Knowing that it would not be enough, Eragon tried to raise his sword up to block the stroke. Just as the blade was about to connect, a glowing white beam intercepted it, creating a shower of sparks as John locked his energy sword against the shade's magically reinforced steel one. Unfortunately for the shade, the magic surrounding his blade was not enough, as the technologically advanced blade began to melt through the steel, and globs of the molten metal began to rain down from the two blades, creating a strange noise somewhere between hissing and buzzing.

Turning his head a few degrees, Eragon saw the Spartan look down at him. "Never let your emotions get the better of you, or you will not survive ten battles."

Ashamed, Eragon nodded, before standing back up, squaring off against the shade three against one. The shade smirked as he turned slowly, making sure that all three of his opponents were within his sight. _Watch out! _Brisingr's warning mingled with Saphira's, as the shade lunged towards him, hoping to take out the weak link first, before turning his attention back to the greater threats. Eragon managed to block just in time, the two blades clashing together in a shower of sparks and molten steel. The shade snarled as he disengaged, leaping backwards so that he was in the middle of the three warriors again. However, the shade did not get time to rest, as both Thel and John rushed him at the same time, sprinting towards the red haired figure at speeds that a normal man could never hope to see.

Two energy swords met in a flash of light brighter than the sun, as the shade ducked, leaving the two wielders with their blades locked. The two plasma based weapons hit each other with a resounding clash, as their magnetic containment fields fought each other for dominance. Immediately, the two disengaged, jumping back as one. However it was too late, as the magnetic fields overloaded, releasing a massive EMP effect that disabled the shields of both figures.

The shade leapt forwards, as the two were distracted, lunging at John with his blade glinting in the late afternoon sunlight. John saw the danger, and stumbled backwards, saving his life, as the blade hit his titanium chest plate with less force than what it would have originally had. Eragon clapped his hands to his ears, dropping Brisingr in agony, as the horrible screech of metal on metal rang out over the Varden's men. Blinking to get rid of the tears in his eyes, Eragon grabbed Brisingr again, and rose to his feet unsteadily, still disoriented by the loud noise. Raising his head, he was met with the sight of the three warriors dueling in a whirling dance, as their swords clashed against each other. Gathering his thoughts, he leapt towards the shade, intent on helping the two heroes.

His plan went down the drain, as the shade saw him coming, and he was forced to leap back, the steel blade missing his stomach by a hairsbreadth. Narrowing his eyes in concentration, Eragon swung his sword at the shade in a sharp side cut. His blade was brushed to the side like a stray leaf, as the shade's sword went up to block John's energy sword. Jabbing Brisingr forward in a short stab, Eragon hoped to catch the shade off guard, as his other allies swung at the same time. Instead, the shade avoided his lunge, and Thel was forced to jump back or get skewered onto Brisingr.

Eragon could have screamed in frustration, as he swung his sword again, only to be blocked by John's energy sword, as the shade forced it downwards. Spinning around, Eragon reversed his swing, and brought Brisingr out from the other side, hoping to flank the shade, and injure him. However, his sword was forced into the ground by the shade's superior strength. Yanking it out again, Eragon slashed at the elusive figure again, and almost took off John's head as he rolled towards him to evade the shade's flashing blade. Withdrawing his sword, Eragon brought it up and smashed it down on top of the shade's head. He was stopped, when a powerful mental spear rammed into his defenses, and forced him to back off, or lose control of his own body. His respite was short, as the shade continued with his offensive, immobilizing Eragon easily with the strength of the multitude of spirits contained within his body. Judging by the sudden stiffness in his allies' movements, they too were under assault from the shade's mental attack.

_2015, Feinster city center, __**Master Chief Petty Officer John 117**_

John's eyebrow twitched as the mental probe skated off his mental defenses. Too bad for the shade, because Spartans tended to have one track minds when they had a mission. And in this case, that mission was to kill the shade. John smirked, as he saw the shade flinch after hitting his mental barrier. It must have been a mental block unlike any other, to invade a man's mind only to find their one and only purpose was to eliminate you at any cost. Lunging forward, John stabbed towards the shade's vulnerable heart, only to have his blade batted to the side, instead striking Thel, who's advanced forerunner shielding managed to save him from harm. Letting his stroke bounce off his ally's shields, he spun around and brought his sword to bear from the other side, looking to cleave the shade into two. Instead, he was forced to smash his sword in the ground, as Eragon went flying right past the very tip of his sword, almost impaling himself on the superheated plasma. He ripped the blade of plasma from the ground, and swung it at the shade again, only to have his opponent lean back, causing his blade to sail harmlessly past his nose. Suddenly, he felt a tingling along his neck, and he twisted his sword, locking it with the shade's counter swing. Before the shade could withdraw the blade, John's left hand shot forward and grabbed the shade's right hand. Without pause, the shade's face contorted in agony as he squeezed his fist around its wrist, crushing bone and tissue into dust, and squeezing the shade's blood out of its body. Seeing the shade frozen, Thel rushed forwards, his jointed legs pushing off the ground and accelerating him at his enemy faster that a ghost running at full boost. John saw Thel bring his sword up, prepared to stab it into the shade, and smirked grimly.

"You're dead" he whispered to his enemy.

Grimacing in pain, the shade reached over with his left hand and grabbed his sword from his now useless right hand. "Not quite." He snarled, before bringing his sword up and severing his own wrist, allowing him to jump up and avoid Thel's stroke. Cursing, John rolled backwards, his ally's blade grazing the tip of his helmet, and crouched, ready for any movement in any direction.

"Watch out!" Eragon's warning cry came a second too late, as John felt his face being forced in the dirt from behind. Luckily, his shields blocked the sword, transferring the energy forward, and helping him to roll forward, and out of the reach of his enemy. Turning around, John found himself face to face with the shade, as he lifted what had been his right hand. As he watched, the severed hand flew back to its original position and reattached itself. Switching his blade back to his right hand, the shade flexed his fingers before directing his hate-filled maroon eyes directly at John. "You will pay for the pain that you have caused Us" he snarled, before swinging his sword in a full circle, and charging at the three.

John leapt into action, sword coming up, and aiming heading on a collision course to his enemy's sword. Meanwhile, Thel lunged to the right, slashing his sword downwards for extra force, while Eragon remained rooted to his place, desperately trying to ward off the shade's mental assault.

Once again, John found his sword knocked to the side, while Thel's swing was dodged without a second thought. Squaring off again, John heard Cortana speak to him. "I have documented your opponent's fighting style, and I have managed to find a way to defeat him, with about a 75% chance of success."

Panting, Chief spoke quietly to the AI, trying to keep the shade from hearing. "Alright then, since I don't have all day, why don't you hurry up and tell me the plan?"

"Alright, alright, I want you to do this…"

_2200, Feinster, __**Eragon**_

Eragon groaned as he tried to rise from his position kneeling on the cold floor. Unfortunately, the shade seemed to sense his attempt to rise, and redoubled the attack on his mind, driving Eragon back to his knees. Desperately, he retreated before the onslaught, slowly becoming forced into the deepest corners of his mind. As his consciousness dimmed to the faintest of sparks, Eragon felt a new presence in his mind, _his sword_. Before he could even begin to wonder what Brisingr was doing within his mind, he reached out to it, linking himself with Brisingr. Slowly, with his sword's added strength, he began to draw his shattered memories and thoughts back together, behind an impenetrable barrier. As he drew his mental consciousness back into his abused mind, they were manipulated into a mental spear by Brisingr. Using the last of his strength, Eragon thrust forward with his newly formed mental attack, and breached through the shade's defenses for the second time in his short life.

_2200, Feinster, __**Master Chief Petty Officer John 117**_

"Understood." Said John, as he mentally reviewed the plan that Cortana had given him. Raising his energy sword, he checked his charge meter, and sighed in relief as the counter showed 10% left on his plasma battery. It would be just enough to put the plan into action. Jumping upwards, John renewed his assault against the shade's sword. His energy sword blurred in dizzying patterns so quickly, that it seemed like a solid wall of light even to his own augmented eyes. Surprised, his opponent began to give ground, caught off-guard by the sudden attack. As John ended another spinning slash, he lunged forwards, his sword pointed straight at the shade's heart. Narrowing his eyes, he noticed dimly that everything seemed to be moving in amber, as the shade's sword slowly began to descend to deflect his latest attack.

"Checkmate," John smirked, as he changed his sword's path in the blink of an eye, slamming the twin blades through his opponent's sword, and deep into a stone that lay beside them, discarded by the explosion that revealed the shade in the first place. Immediately letting go of his energy sword, John grabbed the shade's sword hand in both of his own and twisted, breaking his wrist. Continuing on, he squeezed as hard as he could, crushing the hand to a red paste. Releasing the ruined hand, he balled his fist together, and threw a devastating uppercut into the shade's chin.

The shade was lifted off his feet and sent flying into a building that had been mostly spared by the explosion. Pausing only for a few milliseconds, John unsheathed his combat knife from his holster, and sprinted at his enemy, raising his knife in both hands in preparation for the downwards lunge that would kill his opponent. To his surprise, his thrust was blocked, as the shade used his remaining hand to grab onto his armored wrist as it was descending. As John struggled against the shade, slowly pushing his left hand downwards, the shade's right hand was regenerating. It would soon become a race to see who could achieve their goals the quickest. Sadly, the victory went to the shade, as his newly reformed right hand reached up and joined up with his left, supporting the knife a mere millimeter above his heart.

Seeing the futility of continuing in the contest of strength, John twisted his wrist out of the shade's grip, and raised his armored fist, before bringing it down on top of the shade's stomach, punching a hole clean through to the other side, and causing the shade to shriek in agony. As John prepared a second punch, this time aimed at the heart, the shade heaved upwards, managing to send John flying several feet, before he hit the ground in a crouch, ready to continue the fight.

Rising upwards on unsteady feet, the shade slowly rose until he was standing upwards, if swaying slightly from the pain that these pathetic mortal humans had inflicted upon him. Raising his palm, he directed a ball of light to hit John, but was soon forced to abort his spell, and dodge Thel's energy sword, as it came down on a cutting arc. Still unsteady, the shade stumbled towards where his sword was lying on the rock, underneath John's now depleted energy sword. Slowly picking up the blade, he turned around to face Thel, and John, as they circled around each other.

Their duel to the death was interrupted, as a foolish Varden spearman decided to take the glory of killing a shade for himself. With a shrill battle cry, he rushed through the dome of sentinels, and rushed at the shade from behind, raising his spear in a wild and adrenaline filled thrust. Without breaking stride, the shade deflected the spear, sending its wielder stumbling past him. The spearman didn't even have time to wonder what the hell had just happened, before the shade's slim sabre pierced his chest, puncturing his heart, and a lung. Utilizing the additional leverage from the stab, the shade pushed his sword downwards in a single savage stroke, cutting through the ribs as if they didn't exist. The sabre quickly severed the man's intestines, and liver, before exiting through his hip.

Smiling savagely, the shade let out a burst of insane laughter, before he suddenly stiffened, his eyes locking onto Eragon's prone form in disbelief. Frozen, the shade was forced to withdraw within himself to deal with the mental intruder that was Eragon, led inside by Brisingr, who had become a sword of both physical and mental significance.

To the two seasoned veterans of the Human-Covenant War, such a distraction was never left unexploited, as the two long time companions rushed forward, combat knife and energy sword extended. To their shock, another sword sprouted from the shade's heart in a fountain of blood, before they could even begin to penetrate skin.

_2230, Feinster, __**Eragon**_

Grimacing, Eragon withdrew both Brisingr's and his own consciousness from the shade, as he writhed upon the sword in his death throes. Looking up, Eragon saw his two allies, standing in front of the shade with their arms hanging from their sides, as they stared at the sword that was protruding out of the trembling shade. As he watched, the shade's skin seemed to crack, starting from where the blade had pierced its heart from behind. As small flakes began to peel away from his transfixed enemy, Eragon saw that the inside of the shade seemed to be comprised of an endless void, which radiated small tendrils of darkness, like wisps of smoke. As more and more of the skin began to flake and peel away, Eragon finally saw the spirits, in the form of several balls of different colored light. Eragon could only watch, as the shade's skin fully fell apart, to reveal the human shaped void, and the spirits, as they frantically bounced within it like an insane game of Pong. At the sight of the void, Eragon saw both Thel and John stiffen in realization, as they took a step forward, staring at the void that was in existence in front of them. With shocked exclamations, they ran back, away from the void, as it imploded within itself, taking the spirits away with it.

As the darkness cleared to the normal night, Eragon could clearly see a hooded figure standing behind where the shade had died. In her hand, was a peculiar hybrid between a staff and a sword. As soon as Eragon recognized the weapon, he realized who had killed the shade.

"Angela?" he asked, surprised that the short woman had just achieved what she had.

"What, did you think that I would not be able to do what you have done?" she asked, smiling as she did so.

Eragon shook his head, not wanting to offend the strange witch. "Of course you can, it's just that I do not understand how you could possibly have gotten past the sentinels. How did you do it?" he asked.

His question was answered, by Angela's smirk, as she replied. "That mystery is for me to know and for you to wonder, should it not?" Her mysterious answer was accompanied by a wink, as she turned around, frowning as she turned he concentration back onto the circular room that the shade had emerged from. Frowning, she began to mutter to herself, as she tried to decipher the cryptic lines.

Suddenly, her eyes widened, and she shouted "Get back!" before a plume of smoke obscured Eragon's vision. Coughing the ash and dust out of his lungs, Eragon sprinted back to the relative safety of his allies, as he heard three sets of footsteps swiftly overtake him. With his eyes obscured and watering with smoke, Eragon did not see the block in front of him until it was too late. Tripping forward, Eragon stumbled for a few moments, before he completely lost his balance, falling forwards and rolling to a stop. As soon as he fell, he rolled around, and lunged upwards, trying to get back onto his feet. He froze when he felt a sharp pricking sensation on his neck. His eyes widened, as he saw the long gleaming blade a mere centimeter from cutting his jugular open. As the smoke cleared, Eragon could see more and more of the wielder, as he saw a deathly pale hand, leading up to a tall man, with crimson eyes and hair, dressed in a robe darker than night.

Eragon gasped, as his eyes met the new shade's eyes. He froze, as the shade's pale face crinkled, contorting into a grotesque imitation of a smile. "Our name is Varaug, fear Us." He said, his whispering voice somehow spreading across the ranks of the Varden and UNSC.

_2400, Feinster, __**Master Chief Petty Officer John 117**_

John groaned, as he saw the second shade emerge from the dust. Slowly, John began to reach a conclusion about shades, they were like the hunters, no attack would be effective unless they hit the walking tanks in the back or face. It was the same with a shade, except his target was much smaller. But for a Spartan, a smaller target did not necessarily mean a harder task. Hell, he's seen his teammate Linda snipe targets no larger than a dinner plate from over two miles away, aiming so quickly that even he could not tell which one had been the first to die. What he would have given to have his old teammates at his back again. Returning his thoughts back to the newest threat, he realized that for a Spartan, sniping a target the size of his fist from ten meters away was like telling Cortana to compute simple arithmetic. Hell, he knew several civilian hunting enthusiasts that could do it ten times in a row without pausing for breath. Grasping his combat knife in one hand, and reaching for his magnum with his other, John tensed as he prepared to kill the shade. He froze, as the smoke cleared completely, revealing at least a thousand shades, standing together, grinning as they stared down their fearful opponents.

Beside John, a swordsman whimpered, throwing down his weapons and running in the other direction. Like a signal, John saw his inexperienced allies following the original deserter's example. The clatter of steel hitting the ground grew to a continuous thunder. For the UNSC, they simply tensed, as they prepared themselves for the worst.

The shades seemed to laugh, as their enemies scattered before them. Directing their weapons, the sharp blades and spears sped through the air unsupported, cutting down the cowardly soldiers without mercy. The sniveling cowards did not deserve it. As they continued to slaughter the escaping soldiers, none noticed the lone F99 drone that flew overhead, until its payload was dropped over them.

Tensing, the shades leapt out from underneath the drone's flight path, expecting the ground to explode as they had seen from the recaptured spirits' memories. However, only a fine gold dust drifted down, as the UNSC, and those of the Varden that had yet to give up swiftly drew masks up to their faces. Varaug frowned in confusion, as his sharp eyes picked out a lone man flanked by two dragons on the outer walls of the city. The man was sitting down, head bowed in intense concentration. Whatever he was planning could not be good for them. Raising his hand, he prepared an attack that would vaporize the cowardly magician.

Before his magic was done, he felt something rip through his heart from behind. Turning around, his shocked gaze met with another shade's. However the shade was no longer one anymore, its previously crimson hair had fallen out, and the pale skin had turned to a rotten brown, oozing puss and giving off a foul odor that made even him want to throw up in disgust. The crimson eyes had turned a milky white, and had rolled up into its skull, which had been forced to one side to make room for a cluster of red feathery appendages that had forced their way out of the chest cavity. Its arms had been broken in several places, and massive tentacles grew out of the wrists.

Before Varaug could see more, he was immobilized by a sense of agony, as his molecular makeup was rearranged within seconds, and his limbs rotted away before his eyes. The last thing he saw was the sky, as _something_ pressed his neck to the side, breaking it like it was no more than a dry stick. However, he did not know no more, as he clearly felt his body continue to move, turning around and dropping the sword that had been pointed at his prey.

John gasped, as he recognized his worst nightmares come true. It had started with a man that had ran away. Before the blade had even begun to penetrate skin, he began to scream in agony, as his flesh ripped apart for the parasite to take root. However, its behavior after that was not like any he had ever seen before. Instead of mindlessly lashing out like it normally would, the infection form sprinted past all the potential targets, smashing its "arm" into a shade's heart. From there, things got stranger, as the flood forms began to multiply as usual, forming more and more. However, their movements were organized, and they were attacking only the shade army, which had faltered at the unexpected assault. Before his eyes, the Flood formed ranks, charging against their enemy in organized strike teams. This was not pre-Gravemind behavior. If the Flood were acting in such an organized fashion, it meant that the Gravemind had already formed, possibly only in its proto stage at best. If not, it would be somewhere deep underground, possibly larger that even the _Infinity._ Bracing himself, John prepared to abandon the current objective, and evacuate the entire unaffected population onto the _Infinity._ Protocol stated that if Flood was to be found on a planet, then planetary bombardment through the use of energy projectors was required. To his shock, no such order was given, as the sentinels went crazy, swarming around and attempting to subdue and stop the outbreak.

Keying in his comm, he established a link to Lasky. "Captain, what the hell is going on? Flood forms have been detected, and I'm waiting for the order for evac."

The reply came quickly. "Stand your ground Spartan, this is a controlled outbreak that we have released from our research facilities onboard the _Infinity_."

John was shocked, "What the HELL are you doing? With all due respect, there is no such thing as a _controlled_ Flood outbreak."

He could practically hear the smirk on Lasky's face as he explained, "Ah I thought that too, but a rather curious local dignitary had been researching our ship before. I believe his name was Orrin. I have to say that the man could give Halsey a run for her money." Lasky's voice chuckled over the comm, before continuing, "Ever since he discovered our research on the Flood, he's been intrigued, with the possibilities of the parasite. After he heard about the control of the Proto-Gravemind and Gravemind, he produced a theory that a human with the right mental capacity could in effect disguise himself as the Gravemind itself, and control an outbreak. That was why the order was given to all soldiers to don their gas masks. We excluded you and the Arbiter because we wanted to see your reactions. Don't worry, Murtagh has it well under control with Saphira and Thorn's help. If nothing else crops up, I want you to begin to evacuate the troops away from the city, along with what's left of the civilian population. Mental control or not, I would feel a lot better after we glassed the city as a precaution."

Nodding, John sighed and cut off his comm. Genius or not, he would be having a serious discussion with the king of Surda after the battle. No one would be sane enough to weaponize the _Flood_ of all things. Privately, he would rather be on the receiving end of a NOVA detonation than fighting alongside a "controlled" version of the flood. Returning his attention back to the corpse strewn battleground, John prepared to give the order to fall back just as the last shade was killed.

As he opened his mouth, the accursed diagram in the circular room glowed again, releasing even more shades into the city. As the infected shades continued to combat the new reinforcements, he found himself face to face with Angela, who was shouting over the horribly familiar groans of the flood.

"That thing on the floor is a magical summoning rune! Give it enough energy, and it will continue to recapture the spirits that have been released, and transfer them to new bodies! I'd bet anything that the chambers surrounding that center rune are rooms for storing the bodies that will become shades! We're going to have to destroy that central rune to stop the tide!"

Nodding, John raised a target locator, locking on to the center of the rune and marking it for an extended artillery barrage. Almost right away, his arm was forced downward, and he quickly cancelled the order, lest the shells land on him.

"What are you doing? If you destroy that rune, it will release all of its energy at once! Such a powerful release would destroy everything on the surface of this planet!" screamed Angela over the moaning of the Flood/Shade infection forms. "I'm going to have to get to the rune and disable it manually! I need you to watch my back, along with that giant bug thingy with the silver armor!"

Thel visibly angered at being called a "giant bug thingy" but he seemed to push his pride and arrogance down for the time, as there were a host of more concerning situations to worry about. "Very well, _human_." He said, putting as much contempt as he could into 'human'. "We will guard you until you have finished your task. But-"

He was cut off, as Angela turned and raced towards the glyph, with John following close behind. Growling to himself, he turned back towards the remaining UNSC personnel.

"Fall back and evacuate everyone unharmed by the Parasite! We shall bring holy light upon this cursed soil and banish the Parasite from these lands! But for now you must evacuate everyone in the vicinity!" he shouted, projecting his voice with his combat harness' speakers.

Satisfied that the UNSC was herding everyone out of the range of the incoming glassing beam, he raced after John, pausing only to drag Eragon back onto his feet, and send him towards his retreating allies. Renewing his grip on his energy sword, he overrode the sentinels' default security programming, and sent them to attack the shades instead of the combat forms. Drawing a plasma rifle with his free hand, he took a deep breath of filtered, Flood-free air, and charged into the fray, running towards the underground chamber, where John's rifle could be heard clearly, as he destroyed any shade (or Flood) that came too close to his objective for comfort.

A/N: And that's it! I hope that you liked it. As for the Flood, Halo just dosen't feel like Halo without our cute little zombies that want to cleanse the galaxy (and universe) of all sentient life. So I gave them a chapter. I know that many won't like it, but my instincts just told me to do it. The UNSC will NOT be using such means again, and I also wanted an excuse to display both to Eragon and the Empire, the sheer destruction that the UNSC are capable of, as well as the hardships that they had gone through to get to where they are now. Previously, all that Eragon had on the hardships were stories passed on from the UNSC's personnel. As I would know from personal experience, having something described to you and actually seeing it are two completely different things. For Eragon, who has never left the planet, the scale of destruction and suffering caused by the Flood and glassing will never be conveyed through words, no matter how gory and gruesome the description. He has to physically experience the horror of both the Flood and glassing before he can truly understand just how lucky and powerful the UNSC had to be to survive. As I have finished my reasoning for the Flood, I hope you enjoy this chapter, and even if you don't I hope you won't leave, because this will be the only chapter where the Flood are used by the UNSC. (I might have a small part next chapter, but that would only be to wrap up the ending of the battle, before everything is glassed into oblivion. Anyway, I hope that you enjoyed, and I'll see you next time!


	23. To Kill a Demon

Disclaimer: I do not own Halo or the Inheritance Cycle.

A/N: Sorry about the long upload, I was having some difficulty writing parts of this chapter down, but its all out now, and I hope that you enjoy!

Chapter 23: To Kill a Demon

Jumping forward, John intercepted a shade's blade with the barrel of his battle rifle. As soon as the blade was stopped, he withdrew his gun and used the stock to deliver a devastating uppercut to the shade's head. Utilizing the momentum, he reversed his rifle's direction, sending the stock crashing into the top of the stunned shade's head. Kicking his victim away, he shouldered his rifle and fired, the three round burst making solid contact with the heart. Spinning around, he opened fire on another shade, his single burst killing two as he spun the gun while firing, sending the burst in two different directions. In such a close quarters combat, it was suicide to stay facing one direction. Spinning around, he had just enough time to fire a burst at another shade, who had been about to stab Angela while she worked on the runic floor. Looking around to see if any more were coming, he felt a chill run down his spine. Turning his head, he saw a shade leaping at him, snarling in triumph as his sword descended down onto John's helmeted head. The tempered steel blade struck John's helmet head on, and to the shade's horror, the blade sparked off the shielding and snapped like a dry twig, the forces too strong for the inferior steel blade. He didn't live long enough to wonder how he had failed, before he was dispelled by three bullets embedding themselves into his heart.

However, his attack had much larger consequences than the dead shade had expected. The distraction that he provided was more than enough for the rest of the shades to surround the lone Spartan, each one eager to avenge those that had died from his attacks.

Tensing, John prepared to fight to his last breath, like so many of his predecessors. Taking a deep breath, John adjusted his gun until his blue targeting reticule turned red on a shade's heart. As his fingers tightened over the trigger, the shade he was aiming at simply exploded in a shower of blood, as the rotting arm of a Flood infection form ripped out the heart, before infecting the newly dead shade and rushing off to infect others. Sighing in relief at the timely intervention from the Flood (who'd thought that he'd ever be thankful for the Flood?) he utilized the confusion caused by its assault to pop another five shades' hearts. As he aimed at the sixth one, he heard a click as he pulled the trigger, indicating his empty clip. Knowing that reloading would take too long, John holstered his weapon and casually snagged a sword that had been about to skewer him through the head. Twisting the sharp blade out of his enemy's grasp, John shifted to his right side, allowing him to reverse his grip on his newly acquired weapon, and slam it into the unfortunate shade's heart. Withdrawing it from the dissolving shade, John lifted it up and parried a strike to his own heart. Sidestepping, he crouched, just in time for a beam of superheated plasma to fly by overhead, and impact his attacker, killing him instantly. John smiled grimly as he realized that Thel had joined the battle. Soon, they were standing back to back, killing any and all shades that were approaching their location.

_0300, Feinster, __**Murtagh**_

Murtagh felt the hundreds of beings under his control strain to break free. Each and every one seemed to struggle as a singular being, fighting for their free will. With every shade that was absorbed, the struggle became a bit harder, as the opposing force got a bit stronger. It didn't help when the Varden and UNSC began to withdraw and evacuate, as the sounds from the UNSC engines got to be almost too great to bear. The sounds from the shouting men soon drifted towards him, as they tried to convince the local civilians to evacuate their homes. Soon, everyone was streaming out of the city, willing or not. Carried away by pelicans, and modified warthogs. Some were even sitting on the UNSC's Scorpion Tanks, as they trundled down the streets after the more mobile hogs. As the last of the civilians were evacuated, Murtagh noted the presence of Eragon, along with a few other of the Varden's higher ups. Struggling to contain the Flood, Murtagh opened his eyes to see his brother beside Saphira, climbing up into her saddle. As Eragon settled into his saddle, he made a hand gesture, and two of the Varden's men stepped forward, lifting him up onto Thorn's saddle so Murtagh could focus all of his concentration on fighting the Flood's mind. Haltingly, Murtagh gripped the white spike in front of him, as Saphira lifted up with a mighty flap of her wings, soon followed by Thorn, as they took to the skies to escape the incoming bombardment.

As they flew away, Murtagh found it even harder to control the parasite, as the distance increased. Within minutes of lifting off, the Flood had regained some of their "sentience" and were fighting for control of his own body, instead of the other way around. Struggling for a few more moments, Murtagh drew upon the strength of the Eldunari that he had concealed on his person. However, they too were quickly overwhelmed, as the force of the Flood became too great. With a cry of agony, Murtagh felt his mind breached, as the full wrath of the Parasite washed into his mind, sweeping his Eldunari augmented defenses to one side, like a leaf in a storm. However, instead of the feeling of multiple invaders like Murtagh had been fighting against, there was only one. A presence so sinister that Murtagh would have pissed his pants, had he been in control of his bodily functions. The mind that was dominating his conscious was twenty times more powerful than Galbatorix. Its goal was so twisted and cruel, that it made Galbatorix look like an innocent child, dancing around in a meadow picking flowers.

**"Foolish child, release my mind, or yours will not be spared." **The voice rumbled throughout his mind, as it choked Murtagh's will with its mind.

**"Bow to to me and your reward will be very prodigious." **As the voice spoke, it tightened its hold on Murtagh's mind, coiling around his flickering conscious sensuously, almost lovingly.

**"Betray your friends and turn to me for more and more power." **The voice became more demanding, crushing Murtagh's mind with so much force that the edges of his vision stretched, pulling inwards, as streaks of black stretched across his vision.

**"Turn around and land your pet, and let us be together." **At this point the presence was so overpowering, that Murtagh's already distorted vision drew even further inwards, causing Thorn to look ridiculously long and skinny. In addition, a greenish overlay drew itself across Murtagh's sight, pulsing in time to his heartbeat.

Dimly, he was aware of Thorn redoubling his efforts to escape, knowing that whatever was attacking his Rider would have a harder time the further he was from the source. Abandoning all thoughts of protecting those that had been left behind, Thorn doubled his flapping speed, and dove downwards, using the extra momentum to build up airspeed. Soon, he was nothing more than a blur shooting through the sky like a small comet, catching up to an overtaking some of the UNSC's slower vehicles.

Using all of his willpower, Murtagh asked his attacker a question, hoping for a respite no matter how short. "Who- what are you?" he asked, struggling under the mental weight that the being had placed onto him.

**"I? I am a Monument to all your Sins."** The being replied. **"As for my name, your kind has always called me the Gravemind."**

Unfortunately for Murtagh, despite the being becoming distracted with speech, the pressure on his mind did not let up. If anything, it seemed to be getting stronger, seeking to be let in so that it could delve into his memories and experiences. It seemed to be particularly interested in information about how the world worked. Desperately, Murtagh threw out as much memories of magic as he dared without interrupting his defense, mentally gasping in relief as the Gravemind latched onto the released information like a newborn suckling its mother. The respite was brief, as the Gravemind sped through his memories at an unbelievable rate, returning to pounding against his weakening defenses with ever stronger attacks. Just as Murtagh felt his defenses slip away, the Gravemind released his assault, the distance too far for him to maintain his pressure without committing suicide.

**"Damn you! You have delayed my rise, and I shall not forgive!"** The Gravemind's voice and prescence was rapidly fading, as it spoke its parting words. Gasping, Murtagh allowed the darkness to claim him, as he relaxed against Thorn's crystalline scales.

_0315, Feinster, __**Master Chief Petty Officer, John 117**_

John dodged another swing from the shade in front of him, as he rolled behind his enemy, uncoiling his legs, and tackling his target to the ground before plunging his combat knife into the shade. Standing back up, he was forced to duck, as a Flood combat form leapt at him. Without pausing to think, he cut off the arms of the Flood form, before punching it in the chest, bursting the fragile bubble of the Infection form buried in the Combat form's chest.

Turning around, John heard the eccentric witch call out, "Done! The glyph's energy has been released! It can be safely destroyed now!"

Spinning around, John grabbed the short woman and began to carve a path through the steadily growing sea of Flood. As he pulled at Angela, John saw her nose wrinkle underneath her air filter. "I can walk myself you know!" she huffed, before pulling her arm from John's grip and drawing her weapon. Shrugging, John turned his attention back forward, stabbing a Combat form in the chest, before discarding the rotten carcass, and stepping forward to where his victim had previously occupied.

As his armored boot landed on the ground, it slipped and John felt himself slipping. Regaining his balance, John saw a discarded assault rifle lying on the ground next to a marine who had been unfortunate enough to be caught in the second explosion. Bending down, John picked up the gun and slapped a fresh clip into the receiver, and opened fire, mowing down the enemies. Suddenly, he felt a rush of air from beside him, as Thel charged forward with a roar, energy swords flashing as he cut down the Flood in front of him.

Slowly, the three forms cut through the sea of Flood and headed towards the city, where the evacuation was wrapping up.

Suddenly, John turned around, and began to sprint in a different direction. Vaulting over two Flood forms, both of which disintegrated under his weight, he barreled through the Flood's ranks, not even bothering to fire. Soon, he saw what had caused him to change course. An M12 LRV Warthog lay on its side, abandoned in the previous fight for Feinster. Flipping it over with little effort, John jumped into the drivers' seat, engaging the ignition while still half seated. Settling himself in, John reversed out of the destroyed alley, and splattered the innards of several Flood on the windshield. Ignoring the warthog's up and down movements caused by running over dead Flood forms, he pulled up beside Thel and Angela. Without a word, Thel jumped onto the rear machine gun, and opened fire, covering Angela as she scrambled into the shotgun seat. John didn't wait for Angela to be fully seated, as he gunned the gas the second her foot left the ground. Within two feet, the Warthog accelerated to its full speed, and leapt forward, crushing another twenty four Flood combat forms before the rest had the sense to jump out of the way. As he sped down the alleyway, he was forced to swerve to the left, as a building collapsed on the opposite side of the road, sending rubble and debris flying through the air. Glancing at the building, John was not prepared for what he saw. He was expecting Flood combat forms to cause the collapse, or maybe scattered Imperial resistance. However what he saw chilled him to the core. It was a Flood tentacle, wider than he was tall. The waving appendage towered over five stories above him.

_How did the Gravemind form so quickly?_ He thought, frantically dodging another tentacle, as it crashed down where he would have been had he not turned. In retaliation to the appendage, Thel turned his turret and several bullets embedded themselves at the base of the limb, severing it from the Gravemind completely. Swerving around another collapsing building, John drove it straight up a huge pile of rubble that had been shoved to the side of the road. John felt his stomach drop, as the wheels of the warthog left the ground, soaring through the air as the momentum of the three ton vehicle propelled it through the air. The suspension of the warthog groaned, as they hit the ground running, speeding down the street at over fifty miles per hour. Swerving around a corner, John's vehicle slid several feet, before the traction of the wheels allowed it to propel itself in the new direction. John gunned the pedal, as he saw a pile of rubble directly in front of him. His head was forced downwards, as the warthog hit the ramp at 78 miles per hour, shooting up into the air, before turning downwards in a freefall. It was lucky that John had accelerated the hog, as one of the Gravemind's tentacles shot in the air, missing the rear bumper by millimeters. Hitting the ground, the vehicle stalled briefly, before it shot forward again, right before the rising tentacle slammed down onto the ground. Turning another corner, John drove straight into a group of Flood carrier forms, as they lumbered around, looking for victims to ambush. The warthog plowed straight into them causing them to explode, sending John and his allies flying through the air, as the warthog rolled around. Landing painfully, John looked up to see the warthog upside down in the center of the street, one of its wheels still turning slowly. Running up to it, he flipped it over, and got into the gunners' position, turning the light anti aircraft gun onto the Flood infection forms, as they scurried towards him. Opening fire, John saw Angela scramble into the shotgun seat again, as Thel turned on the ignition and sent the hog lumbering forward again. Turning his turret, John finished off the last of the Infection forms, before signaling Thel. As one, the two veterans switched positions. Thel leaped onto the rear support frame, while John jumped backwards, somersaulting over Thel, as he landed in the drivers' seat perfectly. Yanking the wheel to the left, John managed to avoid a low wall that had remained standing after the invasion. Through the rearview mirror, John saw Thel tense, before jumping onto the gun, and swiveling it around to face the front again. The distraction was a mistake, because when John turned his attention back onto the road in front of him, he saw a Flood combat form leaping at him from a window. It was too late to stop, and the Flood landed on top of the windshield, shattering it before it died from a bullet to the chest, courtesy of John's magnum. Shoving it to one side, John continued driving forwards, splattering the guts of several more Flood combat forms onto the bumper. Suddenly, a wall collapsed directly in front of his hog, and John was forced to activate the power breaks, as he slid to a stop only a few inches from the debris. Reversing, John swiftly turned the hog around and shot off the way he had come. In doing so, he suddenly found a swarm of Infection forms racing towards him like a sea of writhing brown sacs. Behind him, Thel opened up with his machine gun, popping the forms by the hundreds. However, it was not enough, and soon the warthog was bumping up and down, crushing Flood Infection forms to paste underneath its all-terrain wheels. From the sea of brown, John saw two Combat forms leap up at them, and swerved to the left, missing a rotting limb by centimeters. Behind him, Thel cursed as the machine gun overheated, forcing him to waste valuable minutes cooling it down. Seeing another pile of rubble, John drove straight up it, and landed on an adjacent street, which was thankfully empty of any Flood. Speeding down the empty street, John was relieved to find the outer walls in sight. However, his relief turned out to be premature, as a strong wind picked up, courtesy of the _Infinity_, which was descending downwards for its glassing run. The wind picked up many unsecured objects and pulled them inwards, ripping blocks of stone larger than a scorpion up with ease. John swerved to the side to avoid one such block, and put even more pressure on the gas pedal, hoping that the extra speed would pull them out of the _Infinity_'s energy projectors' range. Driving up another slope, John drove onwards, crushing a few more Flood forms, as they tried to cut them off. In front of him, the destroyed outer walls loomed upwards. One section had collapsed completely, and had been cleared off, forming a huge ramp. Above him, John heard the distinctive sound of the _Infinity_'s energy projectors heating up, preparing to unleash hell from low orbit. With one last boost, John slammed the gas pedal down as far as it could go. As he did so, he smashed his fist into the warthog, punching through Grade A Titanium Ceramic Alloy, and ripping out the speed governor with practiced ease. With the safety feature removed, the engine on the warthog began moving even faster, propelling the warthog uphill at over a hundred miles per hour. With the removal of the speed governor, the engine began to pump fuel so quickly that it began to overheat. John saw a sliver of fire flare up in the engine compartment, as the increased speed fanned the flames. The warthog's wheels left the ground and the vehicle was propelled through the air, throwing all three passengers out again, before hitting the soft grass outside of the city of Feinster. The jarring impact of the nose of the warthog hitting the ground was too much for the damaged engine, and it exploded, sending deadly fragments flying through the air.

John was unable to hold onto the steering wheel, and was tossed from the vehicle just as the wheels left the ground. He was flung upwards by the spinning vehicle, and saw that Angela and Thel had likewise been thrown from the warthog. Suddenly, he hit something hard in midair, and looked down to find himself sliding across the floor of a Pelican's troop bay. The pilot was evidently very skilled, as he dropped the pelican down several feet, catching Angela, and eventually Thel before they hit the ground.

"Well you cut it pretty close Master Chief, Roland almost didn't catch your sorry asses in time." Said Thomas' voice over the intercom.

Groaning, John stood up and slowly walked to the edge of the troop bay, looking down in time to see the battered warthog explode in a shower of fire and shrapnel.

"We'd better get aboard the _Infinity,_ everyone onboard is excited to witness the first glassing beam to be put in use by a UNSC ship during times of war." Said Thomas, "We'd better get back to supervise."

Without waiting for an answer, the bay door closed, and the pelican rocketed upwards towards the _Infinity._

_0700, 100 Miles from Feinster, __**Eragon**_

Eragon was astounded at how fast the UNSC was retreating from Feinster. Even with the added burden of helping the civilians, they had travelled very quickly. The only way they were able to tell where Feinster was located was by the column of smoke rising above it. Looking down again, Eragon saw that the column of retreating men had stopped. As he noticed it, Saphira swooped down, both of them intent on finding out why.

Landing in a plume of smoke, Eragon sought out a marine to ask his questions to.

"Why have we stopped?" he asked.

The marine grinned up at him, before pointing in the direction of Feinster. "We're getting ready to watch the fireworks kid; the glassing beam can't hit us here."

Looking back in confusion, Eragon looked towards where the marine had indicated. Beside him, Murtagh landed as well, looking tired from his ordeal, but still alive. He too looked in the direction that the man was looking in.

"What are you two looking at?" he asked.

His eyes bulged, as a bubble of translucent hexagonal panels burst in mid-air, revealing the entire length of the UNSC _Infinity_.

"What is that?" he gasped.

The marine chuckled; amused at the shock the two rookies were showing. "That's the UNSC _Infinity, _the ship that sent us all here." He said.

Eragon's eyes were wide as he replied, "I never thought that it would be this large." He said.

"Oh believe me, that's not the only surprising thing you will see." Snorted the marine. "In fact, the _Infinity_ might be the least surprising thing you see today. That's because you are going to witness the feared energy projector. The weapon that forced the UNSC onto the defensive against the Covenant during the Great War."

Eragon turned to the marine, the question already forming on his lips, "But what is glassing?"

The question died before it was asked as a high whine filled the air around them, making the dragons growl in discomfort. Their riders also grimaced, clasping their hands around their ears to try and block out the noise. Eragon turned to try and find the source of the noise. He quickly discovered that the _Infinity_ itself was the cause of the noise, as an ominous purple glow lit the underside of the spacecraft.

At that moment, all hell broke loose over Feinster, as the purple glow died down, before blazing up into a massive ball of plasma. Even as the plasma formed, it became compressed, before finally, a beam of the concentrated plasma launched itself from the ball, and impacted what had been the city of Feinster.

The moment it hit the ground, the earth trembled, and the largest explosion Eragon had ever seen erupted from where it had struck. The beam continued, as the _Infinity_ slowly crawled forwards, ensuring complete coverage with its energy projectors. Within a few seconds, Eragon could make out a wall of what looked like air, rolling towards them at speeds that would make the UNSC's bullets look slow. Before he could react, the wall hit him, nearly sending him flying off, as supersonic winds ripped at his clothing. Beside him, the dragons growled and ruffled their wings, pressing them tight against their bodies to prevent even the slightest wind catching their flight membranes.

The air was stifling, perspiration formed immediately on Eragon's brow. Just as quickly, it evaporated and was swept away by the air. Forcing his eyelids open against the raging winds, Eragon looked on in horror, as the beam of plasma continued on its unstoppable path, kicking up clouds of dust taller than the tallest peak of the Spine. As he watched, the sky turned a sickly red, and flakes of ash drifted down on top of him, courtesy of the sudden lack of wind. After what seemed like hours, the beam stopped, and the _Infinity _slowly rose up into the air, turning as it did so. Swiftly, Eragon clambered onto Saphira, and she unfurled her wings in preparation to take off. Beside him, Murtagh was doing the same thing.

The marine swiftly stopped him, shouting at him over the shocked and fearful murmurings of the civilians that had called Feinster their home. "What the hell are you doing? You're going to bet blown right outa the air when the _Infinity_ runs by for its second pass!" he shouted.

Eragon was shocked, he had thought that one pass had been enough, and that the _Infinity_ was returning to orbit. He could not have been more wrong, as the _Infinity _once again lowered itself into position. Once again, the whine started up, and the ball of plasma unleashed its power down on top of the scorched city. The _Infinity_'s passes were painstakingly slow, each one taking up to half an hour to perform.

Somewhere between the third and fourth passes, lightning began to flicker in the atmosphere, giving the hellish landscape an even more desolate look. As the glassing of Feinster continued, the frequency of the lightning grew too, until the _Infinity_ had become cocooned in a vortex of brilliant electricity, with sparks leaping from seemingly nowhere to the ship, and down to the ground, adding to the cacophony that the glassing produced.

Finally, after about twelve passes, the _Infinity _finally rose into the air for good, and Eragon leapt onto Saphira and the two took off towards what had been an ancient and proud port city. Murtagh was a second behind him, as the two dragons labored against the stifling and intense atmosphere. As the two dragons approached, Eragon and Murtagh drew breath as one, aghast at what they were seeing. The ground no longer existed. The stones had melted long ago, and nothing remained of the port city. The ground was glowing a dull orange, and giving off enough heat to make even the two dragons uncomfortable. The parts that were cooler were glowing a bright blue, and if Eragon looked closely, he realized that the dirt had melted, and turned into a clear blue glass, giving the area the appearance of a sea frozen in time. Speaking of the sea, Eragon turned his head and looked west, searching for the docks that had held a major portion of Galbatorix's fleet. The ocean was boiling, pockets of gasses sluggishly rising from the sludge that had been ocean water. Steam was lazily rising from the water, dancing circles around itself, as it sought to rise as high as it could.

In the city, there were no buildings, and not even a fire, as was commonly seen after a battle. Instead, the city had turned into one giant pool of slag, the flammable materials having combusted long ago. The parts that were hotter looked very similar to how Brisingr had looked while Eragon had been making him. The dull red glow was slowly fading to reveal a rippling blue sea of glass, smooth and unbroken.

Eragon's gut twisted as he thought of the UNSC, who had been fighting against such weaponry only a short while before they had arrived at Alagaesia. They must have been terrified, facing such destructive weapons without any prior knowledge.

Eragon glanced up to look at the massive ship that floated up above, seemingly unsupported. It spoke volumes of the technology and strength of the UNSC that enabled them to survive and bounce back from the tragedy of having hundreds of entire planets glassed in such a manner. Silently, Eragon thanked every deity known to all races that the Covenant had not found Alagaesia before the UNSC. They would have stood no chance against the powerful and technologically superior weapons of the space faring race.

Finally, Saphira found a spot that was cooler than the rest. Contacting Murtagh, the two Riders began to draw away the heat from the area, siphoning it off to its surroundings. After an hour of constant spell casting, Eragon finally deemed their landing site cool enough to land on. As the two dragons descended down to their chosen landing zone, Eragon was struck once again by how desolate the landscape was ever since the _Infinity_ had glassed it. The buildings had all gone, to be replaced by a section of featureless blue glass. No rubble or shouldering ruins were burning, despite the temperature. Eragon was forced to keep a bubble of magic on the ground, preventing the molten material from flowing over their boots and encasing them in glass.

Touching down, Eragon winced as his feet came into contact with the purplish ground. While he had cooled it off significantly, it was still very hot, and Eragon could feel the heat of it through his boots. Cautiously, he knelt beside the barrier and got a good look at what had been the city of Feinster. Apart from their fifty foot wide circle of relatively cooled glass, everything else was glowing a sickly red. What had been a city was now a massive lake of sluggish liquid, lapping against the edges of Eragon's glass plate like it was an island in the middle of an ocean. Eragon looked around, trying to imagine an entire planet like this, and found that he could not visualize such a horrible concept. For that, he was thankful. He did not think he would be able to stay sane had he seen such an attack. Hell he knew that he would go insane from feeling the deaths of billions of animals, both large and small. If it sickened him to feel the death of a single rabbit or man, how would he feel about every living organism dying in such a manner?

As he thought this, Eragon's mind finally caught up with him, and the deaths of every living thing in Feinster replayed itself in his mind. The colony of ants that lived in the cracks underneath the inner wall, the delivery of sheep and cattle that had just arrived a week ago. Gasping, Eragon lurched to the edge and fell to his hands, before his stomach overturned, and he hurled the contents of the hasty lunch he had shared with the marine during the glassing. The vomit hit the glowing liquid and vaporized instantly, a small tongue of flame licking it up in seconds. The smell of burning vomit did little to settle Eragon, and he vomited again onto the ground. Gasping, Eragon rose to see that the landscape had changed slightly. The ground was slightly darker, and it appeared to be twilight, despite the early hour of the day. Small patches of purple were poking out of the glowing slag, slowly coming together to form land. Eragon stared at the changes for hours, fascinated by the change. As he slowly stood up, he realized that Murtagh had already left, presumably too spooked by the ruins of Feinster to remain for long.

Stiffly, Eragon rose up and climbed onto Saphira's saddle, tired and weary of the featureless desert of blue that had been Feinster. Saphira's claws clacked on the hard ground, scratching the surface as she prepared to take off back to the Varden's rendezvous point. Unfurling her wings, Saphira gave a mighty flap, and leapt into the air, gliding towards the glittering expanse of torches that marked where the Varden and UNSC had regrouped for the night.

Behind the two, the glass began to crack, and the rune that Angela disabled glowed faintly again, pouring what power it had left into one last spell before it faded away forever.

Eragon was very tired. He was too tired to notice the glass cracking beneath his feet as he walked. He was too tired to notice the blood red orb that had followed him from underneath the breaking glass. He had been too tired to notice a rocky tail spear itself through the thick glass left behind from the UNSC _Infinity_'s glassing run. But he was not too tired to notice when the glass where he had been standing on exploded, sending deadly fragments flying by his head. Ducking, Eragon gripped Saphira tightly with his legs as she rolled over, avoiding a hail of broken glass that flew by only centimeters from his head. Looking back, Eragon was shocked to see a massive beast claw its way out of the ground. On closer inspection, Eragon realized that it was not living, and it was made entirely of stone. The beast emerged from the glassed city, easily the size of the _Infinity._ Eragon could see the glowing rune, as it gave off a blinding flash of light, sending the remainder of its energy into one last construct.

Eragon was shocked to see as it slowly raised itself from the ground, first a long and thick neck, followed by great bat like wings, and lastly, hindquarters whose claws were longer than Saphira was from head to tail. It was a dragon made entirely of rocks.

The dragon's eyes were emeralds the size of Eragon's entire body, and the spikes running down its neck were made of gleaming silver. As it unfurled its wings, the edge of a claw just barely missed Saphira, who jerked to one side in surprise. The great wings were made of pure gold, and the rocks composing of the body seemed to be glowing with a poisonous green glow.

Beneath him, Eragon's keen ears picked up the cries of panic of the Varden, and the frantic chatter of the UNSC as they tried to come up with a plan to deal with the new threat.

The green eyes turned towards him, and the rock dragon whipped its tail at Saphira's fleeing form. Luckily, Eragon had seen the movement, and Saphira was able to roll out of the way in time, right before the kilometer long tail of corded metal hit them. The thing roared in frustration at its prey's escape, and with a leap that shook the ground, it leapt into the air to give chase. Saphira redoubled her efforts to stay ahead of the elemental construct, flapping her wings with an urgency that Eragon had never seen before. Her wings moved like that of a hummingbird, as she tried to outrun the enemy. However, for every flap of her pursuer's wings, she had to flap thirty times, and she was quickly tiring. The massive creature seemed to toy with them as it leisurely flew towards them, sometimes swinging its tail lazily to force Saphira to change course. It was unfazed as Eragon shot a fireball at it, and seemed to laugh as Thorn and Murtagh sprayed its back with fire, hoping to distract it from its prey. Almost condescendingly, it flicked its tail and broke Thorn's left wing, sending the young dragon spiraling downwards, out of control. Finally, seemed to tire of the game that it was playing, and opened its maw, releasing a stream of molten rock instead of fire. The lava missed Saphira by a foot, and landed on top of a tent that belonged to the Varden. The unfortunate men inside screamed, as they were entombed and cremated instantly inside solid rock. Seeing the carnage, Saphira spiraled upwards, and headed away from the Varden campsite. As she did so, she dodged another stream of lava, which encased itself on an unoccupied Scorpion Main Battle Tank. Desperately, Saphira dove downwards in an effort to put distance between herself and her pursuer. The thing simply followed her, its rocky belly gouging a trench a hundred feet wide as it hit the ground. Finally, it seemed to tire of toying with its food, slowly gathering speed despite the additional friction generated by its belly gouging the mile long trench on the ground. The creature was surprisingly maneuverable for its size, as it dodged a flurry of missiles that had been launched from the ground. It evidently did not care for the damage done by the missiles that hit, seeing as it seemed to shrug the massive craters in its side as mere flesh wounds. It could see its prey tiring in front of it, as the tiny blue dragoness began to slow down, her wings flapping haphazardly in her panic to get away. Roaring in triumph, it sped up its flapping, creating large tornadoes behind it as it sped onwards, straight into the waiting guns of the freshly uncloaked UNSC _Infinity_.

A/N: This is it! Next chapter will see the end of the Feinister section, and the start of the Fourth book, Inheritance. I hope that you enjoyed this chapter, and hopefully chapter 24 will be out sometime next week! Also, I would like to warn you guys that I will not be uploading at the beginning of August, because I'll be gone to Berkley for an NSLC conference, and I won't be bringing my laptop there with me. (I've learned to not bring Dell products on an airplane the hard way.) I hope that you guys enjoyed, and please review!


	24. Infinity

Disclaimer: I do not own Halo or Eragon.

A/N: Sorry about the longer than usual update! I was packing for my trip to Berkeley, (Its tomorrow :D). SOOO EXCITED xD. Anyway, this chapter will be a shorter one, with another extra chapter that will be more humorous than serious. Hope that you enjoy both! But if you don't like chapter 25, you don't need it to continue reading this story!

A/N#2: Oh, and as for Apocalyptian Scribe, Maybe I would take you more seriously, if you had decided to iterate _Why _my writing is so bad. If not, then you are just another internet Troll who is desperate for attention. I have explained why the writing sucked in the first few chapters, and I like to think that I have improved afterwards. But since you are only commenting on how poor the quality of the writing is; without giving any ways to improve on the poor writing, _Which I have already stated myself, _Then I see no other point in even considering your words. You are an attention starved troll who I have no interest in talking to any further. If you don't want to continue reading then look up to that little back arrow on the top left hand corner of the screen and leave. I bid you a good day, and I hope that you have fun trolling other people in an attempt to validate your pointless existence.

A/N#3: For all of the other readers out there, look to his two reviews for why I left A/N#2 up. He simply criticized without any form of constructive criticism or any objective on a problem that I had stated on my very first chapter. Thus, I am inclined to think of him as an internet troll (And a pretty bad one at that). If you haven't realized, I hate trolls with a passion. However, if you have any part that you don't like, I will not respond as strongly as I did above, if you were to do it CONSTRUCTIVELY. So do not be afraid to flame, as long as you do it in a manner that can help me improve. Now, ON TO THE CHAPTER!

Chapter 14: Infinity

_1200, UNSC Infinity _

The monstrous creature roared almost in derision, as two Archer missiles popped out of their pods and streaked towards it. It seemed to be mocking the tiny missiles, dismissing them as insignificant to itself. The mocking roar of amusement changed to one of pain and anger, as the two streamlined forms smashed into the wings and exploded, riddling it's great, golden wings with hundreds of shrapnel holes. However, the missiles didn't seem to do lasting damage, as the holes closed together in front of their eyes. In response, another barrage of Archer Missiles hissed towards their target, impacting upon every square inch of the beast's body. It roared in pain again, as it was engulfed in a cloud of smoke.

However, it was far from finished, as the creature's spiked tail rose out of the cloud and struck a glancing blow against the hull of the _Infinity_. The spectators on the ground clapped their hands to their ears at the horrible screeching noise produced by the steel tail being forced through Titanium A alloy. However, the armor plating of the _Infinity_ did its job, and the tail bounced off the hull harmlessly, not even producing a scratch against the highly durable Titanium alloy. In return for its attempt at forcing the _Infinity _to land for a new paint job, it received another barrage of Archer missiles.

Immediately after launching its payload, the _Infinity _rose into the sky to allow the dust to settle. As soon as it did, it revealed a heavily damaged construct, with its wings torn off, and one of its eyes missing. There were also craters the size of small houses peppered along its body. The wounded creature opened its mouth wide, and launched a stream of molten lava at the _Infinity_ which was forced to swerve aside to avoid the stream. Completing the maneuver, the _Infinity _turned to see is opponent had repaired itself, and was now directly in front of it, facing off against the massive capital ship.

_1230, UNSC Infinity, __**Captain Thomas Lasky**_

The bridge was a mass of activity, as men scrambled around, delivering messages, and targeting the massive chunk of rock that was trying to kill them all. Thomas stood in the middle of it all, inspecting a deep scan of their opponent performed by Roland only minutes ago.

"Sensors show that our opponent is made of multiple different minerals, working around a central core, which seems to be providing power to the machine." Stated Roland, his voice filling the bridge.

Nodding in recognition, Thomas replied, "I need a full update on all of the ship's functioning systems."

The reply came very quickly, "Engines are powering at seventy five percent. Shields are still charging at ten percent. Hull integrity is at one hundred percent. All cannon and other armaments are operational. Plasma levels are at an optimum level. Plasma Torpedoes are ready for deployment. MAC cannons are on standby, ready to charge on command."

Nodding, Thomas considered his options. "I want the shipboard point defense cannons firing armor piercing rounds at any apparent weak points that may slow down our opponent. Put all Archer and Reaper Missile Pods on ready, I want a singular barrage focused on the chest of that dragon."

Roland replied quickly, "Acknowledged, firing all missile pods on my mark. Mark. Missiles are away."

Thomas glanced out the window, seeing only smoke, as every single pod aboard the UNSC _Infinity_ launched its payload, sending over one thousand missiles streaking through the sky towards the dragon. They impacted at more or less the same time, creating a single massive explosion that went on for several seconds. Each missile weakened the dragon more and more, sending chunks of rocks flying off the main construct.

Slowly, the continuous stream of missiles punctured through the rock outer layer and into the central core. Once its central unit was damaged, the dragon-like being stiffened, before falling towards the ground in a tight spiral. It soon crashed onto the still cooling ground, left behind by the glassing run, and lay there unmoving.

Suddenly, the construct exploded outwards, metals flying around and rearranging themselves to fit in new ways. Finally it came together again, good as new and with several improvements. The body and front edge of the being's wing was created by massive pieces of single piece plates made of a silvery metal. The metal pieces seemed to be connected to each other through gravitational fields, considering that the pieces were floating next to each other, with nothing between individual limbs, where a joint would usually be. The construct was crisscrossed with glowing veins of orange light, and two sheets of the same orange hardlight streamed out of the upper wing's bone, forming two glowing ethereal wings on its back. The creature's eyes glowed, and the head seemed to split open, revealing a glowing blue dragon's skull, as it roared a challenge to the skies, its razor sharp teeth slicing several birds, as they were dragged into its maw from the force of its inhale.

Even though Thomas had never seen one before, it was obvious what it was. "My God," he whispered, "It's a Promethean. A Promethean dragon."

Thomas's observation was unneeded. Everyone aboard the _Infinity_ knew what the Prometheans were. They still walked in their nightmares at times, when the composing of New Phoenix replayed itself in their minds, while they were helpless to stop the massacre. The beast was massive, and obviously in a very bad mood, considering the damage that it had taken beforehand. It's roar shook the sky, as it raised its tail again, and smashed it into the side of the UNSC _Infinity_ again. This time, the tail swept the massive six kilometer long ship to the side like it was a ragdoll. The impact created a massive dent to the side, and sent alarms blaring throughout the ship.

Thomas felt the shock of the tail as it hit the starboard side of the ship, creating a massive dent, and sending everyone sprawling. Slowly, he got up and wiped away the blood that had trickled down his forehead from where he had hit it against the console in front of him. "I want a damage report immediately!" he snapped, before walking up towards the great windows so he could get a closer look at the Promethean Dragon.

"Hull integrity is at eighty percent. Sectors D-47 and E47 have been breached. Engineers are moving in to reseal the hull as we speak. Shield generators have been damaged, but are still operational. Point defense turrets 561 through 567 and 661 through 667 have been knocked out. Repairs will be needed to bring them back online." Roland replied briskly.

Thomas nodded, it was better than he expected. He had taken more damage when he rammed the Storm's capital ship over Requium. "Turn the ship around, and power up all plasma torpedo tubes, I want them launched ASAP!" he shouted over the chaos that was happening as everyone tried to sort their injuries and repair damages. Roland reacted instantly, lines of text scrolling across his yellow hologram as he processed the firing calculations.

"Target locked, firing torpedoes." He said.

A second later, the ship trembled, as the plasma torpedoes were launched in atmosphere. The Promethean shot up on its glowing wings and sped off, followed closely by thousands of plasma torpedoes. The massive construct was surprisingly maneuverable for its size, as it avoided the missiles as if they were no more than balls, in an aerial game of dodge ball. After chasing the Promethean for a few minutes, the plasma torpedoes exploded, the magnetic fields destabilizing from the atmosphere quickly.

The Promethean swiftly rose above the ship and unleashed a barrage of orange bolts at the _Infinity_ with what had been its paws before it was composed by the Didact. Now, it carried what seemed to be Forerunner howitzers, which blasted the top armor of the _Infinity._ Thankfully, the shields took most of the blasts, and whatever that had gotten through were dissipated by the Titanium A allow with minimal damage.

As the _Infinity _launched another barrage of missiles and plasma torpedoes, Thomas was coming to the realization that he was running out of options. While his shipboard mass drivers were powerful weapons, they were best used in the vacuum of space to penetrate enemy armor where a depressurization would be instantly fatal to anyone who was inside the depressurization zone. In atmosphere against an inorganic enemy, the mass drivers would penetrate and do little damage before losing its kinetic energy and stopping. Thomas needed a powerful weapon that was capable of doing large amounts of damage in one strike. NOVA bombs were obviously not suitable, considering their sheer destructive power, and nuclear bombs would leave behind a large cloud of fallout that would be a pain to clean. However, he swiftly realized that he hadn't even used the ship's main armament yet. The four CR-08 Series-8 Super Heavy Magnetic Accelerator Cannons were capable of knocking small ships out of the air from its shockwave alone, and had created craters several miles wide when tested against ground targets before the _Infinity_ had been finished. The four mounted in his ship would be more than capable of destroying the enemy Promethean.

"Roland!" he barked, "Divert fifty percent of all shipboard power to charge up the MAC cannons! I wand two shots loaded within five minutes! Divert the rest to the engines, we need to buy some time for the charging of the cannons!"

"Acknowleged, diverting all power to charging the MAC cannons and shipboard engines, switching off all unnecessary equipment."

At once, the bridge went dark, as the lights went out, the energy that had powered them being diverted towards charging the four massive railguns. With the lights out, Roland's avatar was the only thing providing light, as he prepared the calculations necessary for the UNSC _Infinity _to fire two of her massive magnetic accelerator cannons at the Promethean.

"MAC guns at fifty point seven two one percent charged" Roland said a few minutes later, "Engines are running at fifty percent power, approximate time until firing: five minutes."

Thomas nodded, focusing on the rear camera that showed the Promethean Dragon in hot pursuit. It had become a race to see whether the Dragon caught up to them before their MACs had finished charging.

After a tense five minutes, the Promethean Dragon was a mere five hundred meters from the rear of the ship. They had been chased in a massive circle above Feinster, and were now almost directly above the Varden's camp. However, they could not afford to continue on to minimize ground damage. In another few seconds, the Dragon would have caught up with them. The destruction would be much greater on the ground should the Promethean manage a shot into the engines of the _Infinity._ They would have to risk hundreds of men being crushed.

"MACs at one hundred percent! Ready to fire, preparing assault run!" Roland's voice came over the speakers, as the _Infinity_ suddenly dropped several hundred feet, diverting every joule of energy to the rear thrusters, causing the ship to come to a dead stop almost immediately. The Promethean Dragon didn't have enough time to react, as he streaked overhead. Almost immediately, he began to turn around so that it could continue its assault on the UNSC warship. However, it was still too slow, and the _Infinity _was ready.

Even before the _Infinity_ had stopped dropping, it was angling its entire hull upwards, aimed at the predicted path of the Promethean Dragon. Roland's calculations proved true, as the entire ship shook twice, and time seemed to hold still for an instant. Then the shockwave came.

The blast of the two initial MAC rounds blew the Promethean dragon to bits, expanding into a massive fireball, before the bottom section was redirected upwards after touching the ground. The dust kicked up formed a massive mushroom cloud that would make the Russians of the Cold War green with envy.

On the ground, metal and plasma rained down on the shocked Varden, as hurricane speed winds howled by, ripping tents up and throwing them around like leaves in the wind. However, casualties were light and slowly the sun peeked out of a circle of clouds that had been pushed aside with the massive rise of hot air from the MACs.

A/N: That's it! I hope that many of you enjoyed, and if you didn't and feel the need to flame, then please do it in a way where I would know where to improve my writing style. I do realize that I probably have many mistakes, but then again, that's part of the reason why I am writing this FF in the first place. Also, the next chapter will not be a truly serious one. It will be more of a short humourous chapter to make up for the length of this one. (And I couldn't leave it on chapter 24, before I left, I just had to end it on chapter 25 lol.) Anyway, I hope that you enjoyed!


	25. Training

Disclaimer: I do not own Eragon or Halo.

A/N: This isn't a truly serious chapter, but more of a humorous transition one. This way, I will end on chapter 25 before I left for Berkeley. Anyway, hope that you still enjoy!

A/N#2: Thanks to The Lobster's Claw for giving me the idea to man the Varden up, the weaklings have to start pulling their own weight instead of sitting around and letting the UNSC fight their battles for them.

Chapter 25: Training

John's face quirked upwards, as he looked at the line of men from the Varden that had been unlucky enough to be chosen for today's training session. After the battle of Feinster a week ago, the UNSC had clearly seen just how easily the Varden gave up. After the memorable battle with the Didact's pet, they had decided to toughen the Varden up, so they could finally hold their own against Galbatorix's army. This had included the introduction of what the sergeants of the UNSC liked to call Boot Camp. John and the other Spartans liked to call it the Playground. That was what it was compared to what he had done when he was in boot camp, being tormented by Franklin Mendez and his aides. Whatever the sergeants were doing right now was certainly not very difficult for a Spartan.

Right now, several of the Varden's men were shaking, as an UNSC officer screamed obscenities in their faces, calling them all sorts of derogatory names that would make a Spartan die laughing. The training really was very soft in John's opinion. However, the Varden's men told a different story, as they leapt to do everything that the officer said, stumbling in their haste to please them. The officers' skills in intimidation were excellent. For a normal human's. To John and his fellow Spartans, it would be like a two year old screaming for sweets. Annoying, but definitely not scary.

John looked up as a shadow fell over him, revealing itself to be Thel, as he crouched down beside him. "These humans are pretty pathetic, eh? Spartan?" he asked, amusement clear in his voice.

John nodded, before speaking, "If Mendez had trained me and my fellow Spartans like that, Earth would have fallen in days of the Covenant declaring war on us."

Thel snorted again, "Days? Surely that's a bit optimistic, wouldn't you think? It'd take no more than two days before Earth fell, had your kind been as gutless as these cowards."

John nodded, conceding what Thel had said. "Probably, but ONI would probably pull some other new secret weapon out of their asses to stall for more time."

Thel nodded, "Maybe, but whatever weapon they could have pulled instead of using your kind would definitely have been no less morally despicable as the formation of the Spartan Program."

John shrugged, "I actually don't mind it much, while my childhood had been fairly nice, it would have ended very quickly when your kind invaded, with the Prophets in the lead. At least this way, I was able to survive, and I hope that those I left behind after I joined the Spartan Program were able to survive too."

Thel nodded, understanding. The two continued to sit together in a companionable silence as the UNSC officers continued on with their drills.

_1200, Plains of Glass (Previously the city of Feinster), __**Eragon**_

Eragon sat down with a sigh, before unsheathing Brisingr and staring at it.

_What the fuck are you staring at idiot? Did someone shit on my cross guard or something fucked up like that?_ the sword asked, finally uncomfortable enough to voice his opinions to Eragon.

Eragon grinned, before thinking in his own mind, _I was wondering how you are able to talk, and the abilities you've used in the Battle of Feinster are pretty surprising too. _He communicated.

_How much of a fucked up idiot are you? Seriously? How the fuck do you not fucking know how I fucking have my own fucked up conscious? You are a fucking idiot! _Thought the sword.

Eragon was surprised, his sword really knew how to swear. _I never even knew that it was possible to swear more than the number of sentences spoken,_ thought Eragon.

_Of course its fucking possible to fucking swear more than the number of fucking sentences you fucking use, you fucktard! Seriously, you must have shit in your head instead of a brain, you asshat! Anyway, how the fuck did we get to this fucking topic, asshat? I thought you had a fucking mind that was able to fucking focus on one shithole for a long fucking period of fucking time!_

Eragon blinked, _How much times did you swear? _he asked incredulously, _you didn't even make any sense in that rant of yours. Anyway, I would like to know how you got a conscious, and why you seem to prefer your… speech so much. If you can, I would also like to know what you can do in relation to a normal sword._

_ Oh, so I'm the fucking encyclopedia here, am I? I'm a fucking sword, asshat! I kill people to fucking live! I don't fucking give directions and introductions to every idiot I meet! If your fucking brain is so shrunk that you need to shit to fill it up, then maybe you should ask your fucking teacher!_

Eragon blinked again, _why do you swear so much? _He asked.

_Because I fucking like to fucking swear you idiotic fucktard! And as for how I was fucking created, shouldn't you know? You were the one to fucking give me this fucking consciousness when you were doing that fucking song of yours while you were fucking around, and letting Rhunon do all the fucking work like you always fucking you lazy asshat!_

Eragon paused, trying to decipher the information from the swear words and insults. From what he could figure, the sword had become imbued with part of his personality and consciousness when Rhunon was forging it through his hands. _But what about your abilities?_

The sword seemed to sigh. _You really are a fucking idiot, aren't you. Well, I guess it's time for me to introduce myself… Um… I don't even fucking know where to fucking start with you, Asshat. I mean, do you have any fucking idea, any idea who I fucking am? Basically, kind of a big fucking deal. You listening carefully, Asshat? Cause I'm only gonna fuckng say this fucking once. Alright, Grass grows, birds fly, sun shines, and Asshat-, I fucking stab people. I'm a fucking force of nature! _

Eragon didn't reply, wondering what the hell the sword was saying.

_Hey Asshat! You truly are an idiot! I fucking explained it all! I'm a fucking sword, who fucking stabs people! That's all that I am! My abilities you ask? I can fucking stab people! That's fucking it! Any fire, or whatever? That just lets me fucking stab even more fuckers! Mental probes? I can stab those too! I can stab anything and every fucking thing that I see!_

Eragon simply backed off, not knowing what to say.

A/N: Wow, I lost track of how many times I had to put in the f-bomb and all its derivations lol. I hope that you guys enjoyed the chapter, considering many seemed to like Brisingr's... rough... personality. Also, I had a modification of the transcript of Meet the Scout, from Team Fortress 2. (I love the little guy!) My Steam tag is Oneoverddxofone, cookies to anyone who actually knows what that means! (Hint: MATH MATH MATH). So if you want to play some good old Team Fortress 2 or if any of you has the patience to coach me to play Planetside 2 (I can't hit anything in that game) I would appreciate it almost as much as your reviews to this story! Hope that you enjoyed this chapter, and the next one will be a while off, considering my trip, and how I have to reread Inheritance, to refresh the events that happened in that book!


End file.
